The Lightning Vampyre
by EtincelleD'OR
Summary: Eliás Svboda is the most powerful male vampyre alive. Summoned by a friend for the final battle, he's the only one who knows Lenobia for who she is. But how does he know her when she can barely remember his name? This is his story, and how he made history
1. Heat

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Okay, so TeaTime left a review for 'A Tumble in the Hay' suggesting that I write a story for Eliás Svboda, an OC in my story Resurrected, who is the High Priest of Prague (yes a High Priest he's a man) and helps them defeat Kalona and Neferet. He also becomes Lenobia's mate in the later chapters. And I thought, why not? **

**He's a cool character, and his relations with Lenobia go far further back than she remembers. This is his story. Knock yourselves out! Suggestions for plot twists welcome! As are reviews!!! This won't make much sense unless you've read Resurrected, but in a nutshell, there's a profile for him below.**

**BTW, this hasn't been beta-ed, well part of it has but then I forgot to copy and paste the beta-ed version in and then I added bits so I have no idea what happened to the original, so sorry haha. Sorry Tsuki... I was really careful with my commas...**

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**Character Profile**

**Name: **Eliás Svboda

**DOB: **19th November 1889

**Marked: **1904

**Changed: **1908

**Appearance: **6ft2 tall, coppery-red hair, dark grey eyes.

**Mark: **Lightning bolts (not like Loren's, these are like real lightning strikes)

**Affinity: **Electrokinesis, generation and manipulation of electricity and electric fields.

**Character Attributes: **Eliás is at first well known for being a male with an extremely powerful affinity, and also for his acute intelligence, he has a photographic memory and a flawless logic. As such, he has little talent for the Arts and the Martial Arts like normal male vamps and is a vampyre research scientist, holding doctorates in Physics and Chemistry. Later, he is internationally known as the only male avatar of Nyx, the only man in a High Priestess' position. As a person he is ambitious, straight-forward and business-like. He is a rational man, although doesn't suffer fools full stop. Even though he appears stern at first, he is very well-meaning and kind. But his weakness is his fear of failure. And if I tell you too much more the story will lose its purpose... Here we go...

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_September 1908_

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Eliás Svboda was running like crazy, his footsteps echoing off the walls of the colossal hall while the speed roused his dark copper red hair through the air. Why did this House of Night have to be so big? Ah, right, because it was in one of the biggest castles in the world. Prague Castle, to be precise. Running in the halls wasn't exactly prohibited, in fact it was almost required, the five minute gap between lessons just wasn't enough for an Equestrian Studies lesson which was right on the other side of the campus from the dormitories.

He rather enjoyed Equestrian Studies, far more so than Martial Arts or Fencing, for which he had absolutely no talent whatsoever. Eliás was largely considered to be the most intelligent fledgling in the House, his photographic memory and near flawless logic meant that he waltzed through all of his classes with ease, and they had already earned him a place at the Univerzita Karlova v Praze, the Charles University of Prague to study Physics next year. They had been so impressed at interview that they had completely overlooked his being a vampyre fledgling, so keen to welcome him to their course that they had offered him the place unconditionally and offered to pay a fair fraction his tuition fees for the first three years. Of that, Eliás was eternally proud. He had always been an academic, not a warrior. But Equestrian Studies was a nice change, a happy medium between theory and practical.

Still, he hated running. For someone with a six foot two frame he was sure he should be able to run faster. These halls made him feel small at the best of times, like a peasant in a prince's home and like he should be giving everything more respect, this very fact almost slowing him down. He was in a prince's home, the King's home in fact. There's another confusing thing. The Prague House of Night was the only one where vampyres and humans cohabit. By day, it was the home of the Bohemian Sovereign, a bustling palace, and by night, it became a normal House of Night, run by an amazing, if not completely barmy High Priestess and a few marginally saner professors. Bursting out of the doors, Eliás sprinted towards the Riding School, all the King's horses and all the King's Horse Masters would not approve if he arrived late. Panting, he arrived in front of the grand brick stables (these horses were housed more generously than most people were) and joined the rest of the group.

Goddess he was sweltering and it was four in the morning!

Leóna, a Slovak girl with a tendency to become hyperactive if not kept occupied with some kind of sport, turned her frizzy blonde-haired head at her friend as he leant over to catch his breath and pressed his palms to his cheeks to try and disperse the heat. "Did you run a marathon between here and last lesson Eliás?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Leóna."

He managed to compose himself as the Horse Master, a kindly German vampyre called Friedrich showed them to their case study for today. Eliás had never fully understood why all Horse Masters and Mistresses were either German or Dutch. Friedrich didn't seem to worry about his little breathing episode. He knew enough about life to know exactly what had happened, without using intuition. He was at least 400 years old, but had a physical appearance of about forty, with dark eyes and honey-blond hair, the fringe of which was flicked back out of his face. He was tall and lithe, dressed in a white linen shirt, a thick waistcoat, jodphurs and knee-length boots, the faint wrinkles on his face just beginning to show the signs of age. He had been in charge of the Bohemian King's horses for the last three-hundred years at least, and had forgotten more about horses than any of them ever hoped to know.

"Right." Friedrich began, pulling the rug off the horse and throwing it over the door, "What can you tell me about this horse?"

Eliás walked into the stable and leant discreetly against the hayrack, his bare arms glad of the cool metal – he hated the heat that had been building up beneath his skin for days now, not just as he had been running. Friedrich gestured to the horse's conformation faults and they watched as he explained to them how the length of the humerus bone determines the horse's potential as a show-jumper or a dressage horse.

"Mr. Svboda, please show me the point of shoulder and its position in relation to the point of elbow?"

Eliás walked forward to the front end of the horse, whilst Friedrich swapped places with him. He pointed to the two points and explained that the point of shoulder was high and that the elbow was low, good for freedom of pace and snapping up over fences. He looked up to Friedrich for reassurance that he was right, even though he didn't really need it - Friedrich was just the kind of person from whom a simple nod could make you feel fiercely proud inside. Eliás watched as he leant against the hayrack where he had been. He suddenly froze where he was. As soon as Friedrich's skin made contact with the metal rack, his eyes flashed open and he jumped, howling in pain. All the students felt the shock hit us as he dropped to his knees, clutching at his chest.

"Friedrich are you alright what happened???" Leóna yelled, going to his side, while a few of the others ran to fetch the nurses.

And even as Eliás watched the professor shaking on the floor of that stable, his knees now buried in straw, he couldn't remove my hand from the horse's shoulder.

_What...?_

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_At dinner that morning..._

_Eliás' POV..._

* * *

No... No not again...

I thought of that heat building up in my muscles, of all the things, of all the people that I had given static shocks to recently. For about a month now, anyone I touched I shocked. And I had been leaning against that metal hayrack... Although I could find no scientific explanation for why I seemed to be carrying more volts than National Grid, Houses of Night were equipped to teach the Arts, not the Sciences, I was sure there was a simple one. It was summer after all.

"They're at it again."

My fork paused halfway up to my mouth. Leóna's roommate Antonie pushed a section of her long shiny black hair over her shoulder with a minimal enthusiasm. Her line of vision passing straight over my right shoulder directly onto the professors' section of the dining hall. In most Houses of Night, the professors had their own dining hall, and with the capacity of this place I was surprised that in this one they didn't. They ate with everybody else, albeit with nicer arrangements, they got soft seats on their chairs. I looked over my shoulder, even though I didn't need too. I was pretty sure what Antonie was talking about, she'd mentioned it every mealtime at least for the past two weeks.

I saw immediately what she was looking at. Our Swordmaster Anděl, was sitting next to Friedrich, who, thank the Goddess, was now fine, both of them engaged in conversation with Lýdie, our Sociology Mistress. Anděl, true to his name, had an angelic appearance, light blond hair, baby blue eyes, his almost translucent skin seemed to glow in the low light of the chandelier above them. I almost scoffed to myself as Antonie was; it was the kind of appearance that had women swooning and men grinding whatever they had in their hands to dust with their knuckles in sheer jealousy. The only thing that stopped most other males from lynching him was his private demeanour, most professors were fairly informal in their rapport with us, Anděl's personality was kept away from us fledglings under lock and key.

Lýdie laughed and flicked a strand of her rose-blond hair out of her green eyes. All of the boys, including me, sometimes found themselves staring at her gormlessly, she was that beautiful. All of the girls giggled when she caught them doing it. Fortunately, touchwood, I had never been caught. One, it's rude to stare, two, I was more discreet. Unlike them, I had grown out of it by the Fifth Form, whereas, now in the Sixth Form, the others hadn't, so I had started to mock them along with the girls. I think Lýdie took it as a compliment. She was, despite being painfully shy, an extremely sweet person, to the point where you might think she was almost a fool. Whether this was a facade or whether this was simply how she came across, it wasn't accurate. You only had to see her shouting at the Third Formers to know that.

And here was the problem: Anděl and Lýdie shared a rather fervent mutual attraction, but, for some reason best known to themselves, and maybe, unbeknownst to them, also to Antonie, they never acted upon it. In the Sixth Form we were now actually taking bets as to how long it would take them to become a couple.

Antonie is a clever, witty, sarcastic, and slightly misanthropic girl of Romany origin. My dearest, and most cynical friend in this place and also a telepath. It's her Goddess-given affinity. Although she rather resents it, as she doesn't have full control over it yet, and powerful thoughts of people nearby sort of float into her head. Their sexual tension hasn't been doing her temper any good.

At the professors' table, Friedrich laughed as well, his large kind eyes darting quickly between his colleagues – maybe he was thinking the same thing that we were.

"Goddess, I wish they would just court, there's enough in their heads to supply a French postcard factory for a year." Antonie said disdainfully.

In 1908, there are only so many ways you can verbalise that kind of thing without being deemed crass, or without being wacked over the head by Leóna.

"Good morning!"

I grinned. "Johan, Milan, good morning."

The two boys that Antonie and I often referred to as our 'offspring', due to the fact that out of the five of us, Antonie and I, being slightly older, and good Lord, eons wiser, seemed to take on a parental responsibility for Johan and Milan, who had a combined mental age of nine. The former was a budding sportsman, particularly talented at hockey and cricket. Out of those combined years, Johan was six of the nine years. Milan was the rather pathetic three. He still drooled when a pretty girl passed him, and would come up with ridiculous plans to spy on them or freak them out. And then he wondered why they avoided him like the bubonic plague. Leóna seemed to alternate between us and them, depending usually on how much sugar she had consumed that day. In her more 'energetic' moments, she was worse than Milan, but after she had defeated everyone in the Martial Arts class, ridden three horses and exhausted all possibility of further exercise, her speech at least became intelligible.

The Johan and Milan plonked themselves down next to us and dived into the food, piling it onto their plates. "Morning Antonie." Johan managed to get in between mouthfuls.

"Morning." She said, not meeting either of their gazes, preferring to read the French newspaper in front of her instead.

I laughed. "Good luck." I told them, "You won't get a civil word out of her all day."

"Where's Leóna?"

I shrugged as I finished my mouthful. "Not a clue."

"Horsing maybe?" Milan asked.

"Unlikely, Friedrich's in here." I said.

"I'm here." Leóna's head of frizzy blonde hair bounced towards us and sat next to Milan. "Panic not."

"How's Friedrich?" I asked suddenly.

"He's alright now." She said, "Strange though. The nurses thought he'd been electrocuted."

I forced myself to swallow the food I had just posted into my mouth as my stomach descended into nausea.

Johan put his knife and fork down and leant forward, staring at Antonie, waving his hand before her face. "Hello? Are we on planet Earth today?"

"Get your hand out of my face Johan."

"It's the lovebirds again." I explained half-heartedly, taking another bite.

They glanced around at Anděl and Lýdie. "I propose a plan." Said Milan, "We lock them in a broom-cupboard and see how long it takes until he does the dirty... Ow!" he winced as Leóna's hand clipped him sharply around the ear.

"I'd give him fifteen minutes." I said, immediately dodging Leóna's hand.

"Hm..." Antonie flicked over the page of her newspaper with a finger, "I'd give him less."

Leóna pulled a face like she'd eaten something disgusting. "How can you say things like that?" she glanced at them, "Aw, I think they'd make a lovely couple, and they're so desperately in love..."

Antonie made a small noise that was supposed to imitate gagging, while Johan and Milan pulled odd faces. I wasn't about to admit that I agreed with her. I watched as Milan looked amongst us, a sly grin on his face.

"So..." he said, "All in favour of the cupboard idea?"

I had to raise my hand.

* * *

It was very difficult, in one of the largest castles in the world, to find a lockable place that was small enough to promote physical proximity for two, and that wasn't otherwise occupied by cleaning utensils, or even other couples. Needless to say, Milan had just the spot.

"I think you're mad Milan." I said, as I wondered into Milan's little game plan and took a look around.

"You said you were in favour."

"That doesn't mean that I want to share your detention."

I walked around the room – it was an old storeroom, which in castle terms meant it was the size of your average lecture theatre. Several unused desks and stacked-up chairs littered the place, as well as easels not yet unwrapped, and general ornamental rubbish that had been cleared out of the rooms, either because it was valuable or breakable.

"Milan." I leant against a spare desk. "Question." I said, "How exactly do you think you'll get them in here? At the same time? And then how will you lock them in?"

Mocking Milan's plan made this all the easier, as it highlighted enough flaws for him to abandon it all together.

He grinned inanely. "Already did. Sent 'em letters." He said, "From the other."

I glared. "Milan! They'll put you in the damn dungeons!"

"It's genius."

"It's suicide."

I began to regret that I had put my hand up, that I had thought that Milan was actually sane enough to just be joking. I really should know better.

* * *

Later that morning I felt so sorry for Anděl and Lýdie that I actually went to their pigeon holes to remove the letters Milan had planted, feeling ever more and more pissed off at him. It was funny as a joke over dinner, it would not be funny in motion, least of all for Milan. There weren't even proper curtains in that store room, it wouldn't keep the light out. Milan was an idiot. I reprimanded myself again and again for even beginning to think that it was funny in the first place, I was beginning to see that it wasn't funny, not in any context. Goddess I wanted to hit myself for my own stupidity I was so pissed. I began to feel hot again, my skin tingling. I rolled up the sleeve of my shirt to the cool air, which soothed it a little. What was wrong with me? As I marched, I noticed something. Everything around me, anything that was made of metal, was shaking. Like we were having a small Earth tremor, but the ground wasn't moving. I felt shivers up my spine, and more tingling as waves of what felt like electricity washed over me. I walked faster. I didn't want this – I didn't want to be the one that had hurt Friedrich, but something horrible was telling me it had been me. To think that I had a power was impossible, male vampyres had physical affinities, a department in which I was extremely lacking – please don't take that in the wrong way – I had my wit, my intelligence, but that was it. I clenched my jaw as I walked, wishing, to the end of the Earth, that it would stop. That someone was haunting me or the like.

I stopped outside the professors' lounge, the door to which was open. I began to search through each of their full pigeon holes, my eyes sharpened on the lookout for Milan's handwriting through this sickening feeling – as soon as this was done I was having an early night... I heard a feminine laugh, and froze. Silently, I tiptoed to the side of the door, so I could peer through the gap between the door and the wall on the hinge-side.

It was Anděl and Lýdie, he perched on the edge of a coffee table, she sitting cross-legged in a chair, both chatting fairly innocently with a cup of coffee – only professors were allowed coffee, shame really, I think they needed it more than we did - in front of a roaring fireplace. Damn it!!! Everything metal in there was shaking too! I went back to the pigeon holes and worked faster. My stomach sank and sank and I began to feel ill, my vision blurring, like the air around me was thick with waves. These waves pulsed inside me, through me, outside of me, emitting from my body like I was a radioactive chemical.

Even though I couldn't see inside the room from here, I could almost feel Lýdie looking around her at the metal objects quivering, a teaspoon falling off the table maybe.

"What's happening?" I heard her ask and I had to check again.

Through the crack I saw Anděl put his coffee cup down and look around warily, as warriors were taught to do. I briefly wondered whether or not my hair was standing on end, and prayed that they wouldn't notice me as I tried to keep lookout and search for the letters at the same time.

Anděl was first. He suddenly stopped, midsentence, as if only to quicken his breathing. Lýdie leant forward to ask him what was wrong, her eyes widening as she did so.

He leapt away from the table like it had bitten him on the backside. "Shit!" he exclaimed as what looked like pain launched itself through his muscles with vengeance. Anděl let out a small moan that was somewhere half between pain and... pleasure? What? Come to think of it, that's just what it looked like... But just how exactly do you go from normal to ridiculously horny in a matter of seconds? Without drinking blood, that is... This was far too weird even for my brain to deal with. Casually, he raised a leg onto a nearby spare chair to disguise the tightness in his trousers from Lýdie, who, it seemed, had been hit by the same thing. She looked uncomfortable, before getting up from her chair.

"I ought to go..." she said, turning to leave.

Anděl suddenly grabbed onto her wrist and pulled her back to him, holding her in a locked grip and kissed her hard.

I immediately turned away, my system shocked and my eyes forever blighted, trying desperately to ignore the goings-on inside the room. I searched through layers of essays and notes for Milan's letters with blurry eyes. Although I couldn't help but feel happy, ever since I first came here in the Third Form Anděl and Lýdie had wanted each other, but for never acted on it. I was still trying not to listen as things heated up, no matter how mature you were or tried to be, imagining your professors having sex was cringeful enough, let alone actually eavesdropping, even if it wasn't intentional. I breathed a sigh of relief as my vision finally began to clear and the clammy sensation in my skin subsided. I saw an envelope Milan's handwriting and removed it from the second pile.

And now I'm getting out of here!

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**R&R!**


	2. Oh crap

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Another one. :)**

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_At breakfast the next day_

_Eliás' POV_

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"Guess who finally got a room." Said Antonie at breakfast the next evening, "All through the flipping day as well, I didn't sleep a wink."

I stopped mid-chew, and made myself swallow the rest of my toast. "Why is your brain so keyed into their lives?" I asked.

"It's whoever's thoughts are the strongest, within a certain distance range. It's a good job the boys' dorms practically have bars at the windows, otherwise I'd actually become an insomniac."

"Why don't you try and control that affinity of yours?"

Antonie gave me a sly look. "I could say the same thing to you." She said.

I blinked. "Come again?"

She put her teacup down. "Elias..." she said, leaning forward, "It was your affinity that caused them to have sex there and then."

I nearly spat out my tea. "_What_??? Antonie I don't have an affinity and even if I did I would use it to do _that_!!!"

She grinned. "I can read their minds, and I can read yours. What their brains registered correlates with the hyperactivity in yours. You were emitting electric waves like an electromagnet."

I scoffed. "I _don't have_ an affinity Antonie, least of all one capable of sexually arousing people!"

"Oh you hurt them too, but that's not the point." She saw my face, "Not badly don't worry they're still alive."

"Antonie..."

"But then that's not the only thing that's happened to you in these past few days is it?"

I couldn't answer. She smirked.

"First you gave static shocks to anyone you touched, then you indirectly shocked Friedrich and then anything capable of holding an electric current started dancing wherever you were." Antonie raised her tea to her lips in a victory-sip, "You're some kind of electrokinesist, you freak."

"I don't understand." I said, "And how could electromagnetic pulses have done that anyway?"

"I'm not a physicist." She said, "But Adéla is concerned about it, and Věra is coming to talk to you about it this evening."

My eyes went wide. "Oh Goddess, I think I just raped my professors..."

"Don't let on about that." Antonie whispered, "They aren't physicists either, they aren't aware that the pulses were the initial cause of Anděl and Lýdie's, er, relations, not even the lovebirds themselves are, all the vamps know is that something was emitting electric waves, and that something was you."

"Wait..." I said, trying to find an explanation for my definitely _not _having raped my teachers, "I wasn't 'emitting' all through the day, I was asleep."

"'Initial' being the operative word." Said Antonie cunningly, "Anděl and Lýdie did the rest."

I pulled a face. "You know I really don't want to know."

"Well get ready." She said, "Věra, two o' clock."

Věra was the Literature professor, and also my mentor. A tall thin woman with waist-long mahogany hair, dark eyes and an expression that could freeze a lake, together with her black suit gave most fledglings the impression that the Grim Reaper was approaching. I was not particularly close to Věra, she was an excellent teacher, and I admired her intellect, but I had been just fine here on my own, nor had I ever had any problems which might have needed her intervention. In fact, apart from a quick 'hello' and 'how are you?' now and then, we rarely spoke out of class.

"Eliás." She said, reaching my side, "How are you?"

"Fine thank you, and yourself?"

"Well, thank you." She said, now taking on her more usual serious tone, "Eliás I need to have a word with you, if you would come to my office after breakfast, we have some issues to discuss."

It was an order, not a question. "Of course." I replied and acknowledged her nod, before she turned to leave the Dining Hall.

Antonie speared some bacon with her fork. "She never changes." She said, "But your bacon is safe..." she held up her fork, and I felt the sheer irony. She held my bacon in her hand, "She's just fascinated that you've been gifted like this."

"Is it that bad?"

"How can you talk about it like it's a disease you're spreading?" she chuckled, "Personally, I can't believe it either. It's going to make people think you're even more of a girl than you already are."

"Thanks for the encouragement."

I felt so guilty, all of this told me I was. It had been me that had hurt Friedrich, it had also been me that had pushed Anděl and Lýdie over the edge before they were ready. It still hadn't sunk in that Nyx had gifted me with an affinity, a _magical _affinity, not a physical one, that _never _happened to men. Never. My stomach sank. Oh good Lady what have you done to me?

Antonie probably knew what I was thinking before I did. "Relax, it's a blessing, not a curse." She said, before whispering again, "And for the record, they were ready, in fact they were overdue, it probably would have happened anyway."

She winked at me, and I realised that I would probably be alright. Probably...

I finished my breakfast before Johan, Milan or Leóna were even out of bed, and found my feet taking me to Věra's office on autopilot. I raised my fist and knocked on the door.

"Come in." Věra's voice came.

I opened the door and saw her pouring over some Third Form essays. "Ah Eliás, have a seat." She indicated with her hand to the large chair before her desk. I sat. "You know, normally I know who is outside before they knock, but you always manage to jump my radar."

"It's not intentional, ma'am." I said.

"I know, but it is fascinating." She said. Again, she took her serious tone, and I knew what was coming next. "You probably know why I called you here."

"You tell me."

"Well like I said, you're difficult to read at the best of times. But I trust you've been noticing the electrical phenomena happening around you."

"The Goddess has given me an affinity." I said tiredly, like it was the simplified version of her thoughts.

"It would certainly seem so." Said Věra, smiling, "Congratulations."

"It's anti-climactic." I said uncomfortably, "And extremely unexpected."

"I'll bet." She said, leaning forward like Antonie always did. "Eliás, Electrokinesis is an extremely powerful affinity, it can do a lot of damage if unchecked. The last documented electrokinesist was a Native American High Priestess who passed away about fifty years ago, and before she died American scientists reckoned that at any one time and at maximum power she could generate 100 gigawatts of electricity. That's enough to supply Great Britain's National Grid, for eighteen months." Věra's sincerity never wavered, "And nowhere in her memoirs does she report the manifestation of her powers without her will."

"I understand." I said with equal sincerity. I did. Věra was trying to sum up the burden of this affinity in words. She was trying to tell me that I was stronger than this High Priestess. By now my stomach was somewhere around my feet, my brain trying to take in this information.

Another knock on the door diverted my attention. Věra called for the person to enter, and the door opened. It was Adéla, the High Priestess of Prague. She looked to be around fifty years old, when in reality she couldn't be far off her seven-hundredth birthday. She was a tall, thin woman with floor-length silvery hair and an almost translucent complexion. To all who lived here, she reminded them of a charismatic groovy grandma, the type who would turn a blind eye she caught you with a hand in the cookie jar and would join you if she found you dancing around the room to some cheesy song on the radio. She was well known amongst the Vampyre Council as a practical joker, her fun-loving attitude surviving with her well into old age. Indeed her professors were her children, and her fledglings her grandchildren. She was extremely popular, even if it was because she was insane.

"Věra, stop scaring the boy!" she scolded sharply, the playful layers to her voice indicating it was more of a prod than a chiding, but you could never be sure, "At this rate you'll have him in a box before lunchtime."

A grin broke out onto my face and I had to curb my own laughter. Věra looked a little flustered, and Adéla laughed.

"Don't take it too personally dear."

Věra smiled. "I know better."

"I know you do dear." She said, clapping the Literature professor on the shoulder and almost knocking her off her chair. "Now..." she said, turning her attention to me, before turning it momentarily back to Věra, snapping her fingers at her. "Where did you put those books?" Věra held out her hand gesturing to a box on the floor to the side of her desk. "Thank you dear. We have something for you..." she said, walking over to the box. Opening back the flaps, she hoisted it onto Věra's desk and began to hand large thick books to me.

"What are these?"

I turned over the first one, which read '_A Textbook of Advanced Physics_' and had a Charles University stamp on the inside cover. Whilst being rather bad at the Arts, such as Drama and Music, I did love the Sciences, my father was a doctor, and I used to spend hours his practice as a child, right up until I came here. I recognised some of the books she gave me – I had already read them. I had a stack of books on Physics and Chemistry in my dorm, the simple concept fascinated me to an extent where I loved nothing more than to fall asleep with one of them in my hands. How sad was that? My roommate wasn't always impressed – it was rather taboo to keep a hoard of scientific books in a highly religious environment...

"We ballsed up." Said Adéla vibrantly.

"We did?"

"We did. Since the beginning of time."

""Well that sounds serious."

"It is." Adéla continued, "We vampyres have submerged ourselves the Arts for so long that we have forgotten to move along with the times, of course that may have something to do with us living for ridiculous amounts of time, anyway, the Arts aren't going to teach you anything about these powers of yours, which is an absolute bugger because none of us here are equipped to teach you. I could let you go to be educated by humans, but unless you want to end up on a Petri dish in a dissection lab freezer I wouldn't advise you did that." She looked at my speechless air, "Well smile boy!! I'm trying to lighten the mood here!"

I smiled.

"Now..." she continued, before she suddenly reached for her handkerchief in her pocket and held it to her mouth while she coughed harshly.

"Are you not well Adéla?" Věra asked worriedly. Adéla coughed a lot now. It wasn't dangerous, not like it was with fledglings. If Adéla coughed while she was amongst fledglings, the other vampyres suddenly went into launch-mode looking for the fledgling who was rejecting the Change, and then were all told off by Adéla for being 'as daft as a fence-post'. It was simply proof of her age, but it still worried the adult vamps, and I often wondered exactly why.

"Nonsense." Adéla replied. "Complete and utter codswallop darling. I am as sprightly as a seventy year-old."

"If you say so." Said Věra acceptingly. Even though much of her notice was concentrated on Adéla, I saw her eyes flicker back to me, taking in my silence. It was so much to take in. I had _powers_, for Goddess' sake! And yet I kept asking 'why me'? I finally knew. Getting up from her desk, Věra walked around and reached out, putting her hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry." She said reassuringly, giving my shoulder a rub.

"Věra..." I said, "It's like... Being told you have to carry a gun, and then learning not to use it... But what if you don't want to carry a gun at all?"

"And yet a gun may save your life one day."

"_Or end it..." _I thought.

* * *

**R&R!**


	3. Trauma

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

_1__st__ January, 1943_

_German SS and police authorities deport approximately 105,000 Jews to Auschwitz._

* * *

Eliás was running again, through the huge halls and passageways of Prague Castle, his white lab-tunic pristine, all the buttons done up, fitting it nicely to his waist, his ID flat to his chest as he went. As he did, he remembered running through these halls as a fledgling, feeling small, irrelevant. Those feelings seemed so silly now, so petty. He was stronger now, more competent in every single way. Back then he just a child, now he was an adult and twice a doctor. Twelve years of University study and two doctorates later, the first in Physics, the second in Chemistry, and he was finally doing what he had always wanted to do, research into vampyre medicines, drugs, developing new ones and tweaking current ones. Twelve years in university was a huge amount time, as was the amount of debt he was in due to the sky-high tuition fees, but the prospect of living for up to eight hundred years lessened the blow a little. Twenty-five years on the debt was beginning to clear, and Eliás, now aged fifty-four, still looked no older than twenty-four, but his sternness showed anyone that he was wise beyond those years.

Even though the times had changed. Eliás was now a vampyre, but that was the least of it. Bohemia was now Czechoslovakia, the original state and sovereign no more, and the peace that Europe had once known had first cracked and shattered with the force of World War I, and then, like a recurring drug-resistant infection, erupted into World War II.

The shouting and gunfire was getting louder now. Eliás had never run so fast in his life. Reaching the Castle gate was taking far too long. He could hear his breath getting heavier and heavier. As he passed the windows, the image outside flashed, the dimming sunlight pissing him off more than anything. He had been barely dressed when the shouting started, and now you could hear it practically from all over the Castle, if you were a vampyre that is. He didn't stop to see what it was, all he knew was that it was bad.

Eliás managed to arrive there before Adéla. The only other person there was Lýdie, who was leaning against the door whoever was outside was trying to batter down. He had never seen her so pale, she literally looked white, all the blood drained from her cheeks. She was shaking, her eyes wide and frightened, her hand still fastened over the little eyehole in the door, causing the metal clasp to rattle.

"Lýdie..." he said, "What's going on out there???"

"German troops..." she whispered, covering her mouth with her hand, "They're rounding people up..."

"For what?"

There was a pause as Lýdie gathered herself and shook her head as if trying to deny to herself that something was happening, before exhaling in panic. "_For Auschwitz_."

Eliás saw red. Furious, He ushered Lýdie away from the door, unlocked the locks, heaved it back, and fired bolts of lightning into the crowd of green-clad men, striking the ones at the front plain on the chest, sending them flying into the air and hitting the ground with a sickening crack. The repellent fields were well in place before any of them thought to shoot. Eliás felt strikes on his mind as the little metal bullets hit his defensive electric fields, driving into them but nowhere near through them. It looked to the eye like he had stopped time, like they were just suspended there. Easy.

Eliás lowered his hands and the bullets dropped to the ground. "What is this???" he hissed, his grey eyes boring into each and every one of them.

As the Nazi General began to read out his orders, High Priestess Adéla pushed past Eliás and held her arms out, as if defending the place. "That, is enough!!!" she said, her voice not shouting but louder than most of the guns put together. "You will take _none _of my teachers, students or associates!!! _Get out of my sight_!!!" she roared, "_Before I have you all fried_!!!"

Eliás allowed his hands to spark with electricity as she said it, letting small bolts fizzle in the air around them. The German soldiers slowly began to depart, hoisting their wounded over their shoulders at the order of one General, all of them staring at Eliás with stunned eyes as if he were some kind of fictional sorcerer. He growled. Too slow. He aimed another few bolts at their feet, blasting the concrete off the ground and flying like a shell had hit it, startling them and finalising their retreat. He enjoyed watching them run.

Adéla let out a frustrated sigh. "Thank you Eliás."

"Don't mention it." he said, his anger still prominent, "I needed no invitation."

"What exactly did they think they were going to find here?"

"Well..." he began, closing the door behind them, not relaxing in the dark, "They're taking Jews, disabled people, gypsies, homosexuals, how long will it be before they start trying to take vampyres?"

"And that is what I most fear."

"'Trying' being the operative word." Relocking the locks, Eliás looked around. "Did you see Lýdie on your way down here?"

Adéla shook her head. "No, why?"

"She was here when I got down, she seemed rather traumatised."

"I'll send Anděl to look for her." She shook her head in disgust. "Hm. Auschwitz. I wonder if we should open up the House of Night as a sanctuary."

"They find one, they find all of them. If they find us out every single person man woman and child will be found here. We might as well round them up somewhere and offer them a confectionary prize for which regiment can find them first." He took a breath, "If that happens we can't keep them out, not all of them. We would do better to offer assistance fleeing the country, but who will accept help from vampyres Adéla?"

"You'd think that faced with death they might have exhausted all their other possibilities."

* * *

Eliás returned to the teacher's lounge. Despite not being a professor, he was as much a part of the family as all the others, and for all intensive purposes, a member of staff. He even had his own pigeon hole, now that really did mean that he had arrived. He smirked when he saw the others crammed full with essays and marking, when all his had in it was post. Pulling out the letters, he saw a little black swastika imprinted on the top right hand corner over the stamp, and his stomach turned. They were still trying. He would have thrown the letter in the nearest bin, had he not known how some bored students liked to go through paper bins to dig up dirt on teachers. This was definitely something he didn't want them knowing. A few more envelopes, a few bills, and at the bottom a familiar hand-written one.

He smiled, and opened it. He would know Antonie's handwriting anywhere.

Antonie was the only one he had really kept proper contact with after Changing, only speaking to the others at Christmases and birthdays and on other random occasions, he would go and stay with Antonie whenever he had the chance. After Changing she had gone back to her family, but had continued to write to him every week or so. If he assembled all of her letters, they became a map of her life, her story. It was, mostly, a happy story. She had found her soulmate, a vampyre called Petr, and they were happy, living in the Roma community, generally helping and teaching the children. Before he had been to see her the first time, he had found it hard to imagine a powerful person like Antonie wanting to live in a society that was highly male-dominated and old-fashioned, but as soon as he stepped over the threshold it was more than obvious as to who wore the trousers. Then again, they had spent a lot of time hiding, disguising themselves recently, since Hitler announced they were the enemies of the master-race. Antonie knew how to take care of herself, but this was ruining her life. It was ruining all of their lives and she had described it so many times. She never disclosed her exact whereabouts, in case the letter was intercepted and read by Nazi officials, but there would always be subtle clues. Leaning back against the wall, he pulled it out of the envelope and unfolded it.

"Does someone have a love-letter?"

Adéla? Where did she come from? Seriously the woman was everywhere.

"It's from Antonie."

"Well isn't that a bummer."

"Adéla!!!"

Both vampyres turned their heads to see the Swordmaster Anděl, dressed ready in white fencing uniform for the night, sprinting towards them, his blue eyes panicked.

"I can't find Lýdie!" he gasped, struggling for breath.

"Well it's a fairly large Castle, so she can't have gone far." Adéla joked.

Anděl shook his head, his fear rife in the air. "No I can feel her through our Imprint! She's not in the Castle, she must have gone into the city!!!"

Adéla suddenly looked worried. "Find her." She said, "I'll send Edita out after you. Arm yourselves."

Anděl undid one of his swords from his belt and threw it to Eliás, who stuffed the letter into his pocket, before heading once again for the door. As the two vampyres leapt down the steps, a small crowd of townspeople gathered before them, cheering and clapping, trying to catch hold of them to shake their hands as they pushed past. Ignoring their reception they ran into the depths of the city, leaving the despondent people staring at their backs. Eliás watched Anděl's face in disbelief. The bond he and Lýdie shared as soulmates was the most powerful one known to vampyre kind, known as a Binding Imprint, the survival of the one was completely dependent on that of the other, and Eliás couldn't help but feel that Anděl feared for her life, even if she was only going out to the city for a while.

"Anděl, what's wrong?"

Anděl's frightened eyes darted to him. "She's defenceless!!! If they find her they'll kill her!!!"

"Why?"

"Eliás..." he said, "She's Jewish."

* * *

"She's a vampyre."

"Her family's Jewish, she's born of a Jewish mother. In their eyes that makes her Jewish too."

"But she's not a practicing Jew, nor does she fit their ridiculous appearance stereotype."

"Since when did that stop them?"

Eliás was starting to tire from the running. "Remind me again why we didn't take a car?"

"We should split up."

"No we shouldn't." Said Eliás, "They have firearms Anděl, that sword won't stop bullets. If they kill you she dies too remember."

Anděl caught his breath. Their bloodlust was entirely dependent on the other, soulmates could only survive on the other's blood, anything else lost its nutritional value and 'flavour' after about a year, they didn't even need human blood, just each other's. So if the one was killed, then the other would die from starvation. Anděl hated taking protection from anyone, but he had to admit, in this instance, Eliás'powers were of infinite use.

"Oh Goddess..." he gasped, "Eliás if they take her to Auschwitz..."

"They should know better."

"But do they?" he said, "I'll go after her. I don't care who tries to stop me now."

"Anděl..." Eliás began, his breath short with running, "If it ever comes to that..." he said, "I'll help you."

Anděl looked at him. "Thank you." He said after a while.

The streets were completely black, the windows boarded shut, everyone shut up shop for the night. The stars of David on some of the shop windows branding them Jewish like hot-brands on livestock for slaughter. Some of the shop windows were shattered, the good ransacked, and even in some fires planted to consume everything of what would have once been someone's life. There was no point in trying to get anybody out of the burning buildings. They were already on the train.

"Can you locate her?"

"She's not answering me, but I think I know where she would have gone..." said the blond vampyre.

"Where?"

Anděl stopped running as he came to the end of a street. "Here."

It was the same as the last. All these streets looked the same and Eliás would have to make sure he didn't let Anděl get hurt otherwise he might never get back to the Castle. "This one?"

"She used to live down here..." he said. "Her family lived here."

Eliás noted the fencer's use of the past tense, from the looks of it, it hadn't been very long ago that they had lived here. He watched his friend approach one of the little shops, checking the scorched number on the door before nodding to him, and opening the door. Strangely, it was the only place where an attempt had been made to put the fire out.

"Can you check upstairs?"

Eliás nodded as Anděl went to look in the downstairs part, the bakery and the storerooms, and began to climb the stairs, his shoes causing the blackened wooden floorboards to creak beneath their soles. Voices hit his ears. Reaching the top as quietly as he could, he pushed at the door slightly, peering around the gap, and opened it completely, taking in all of the room.

It was a dump. It hadn't always been a dump, everything gone, it had been partially burned, the carpet black with soot and scorch-marks, there were even blood-smears on the wall. Smashed furniture, wires trailing from old sockets where appliances had been ripped out. It was sickening. He grimaced. At least he had found Lýdie.

She became aware that he was there as the doorknob on the other side of the door touched the cracking plaster on the wall, and she whipped around, the cloak she had pulled over her face casting a shadow over her features. It was just as well, for her face was braced, trying to hide a horrible truth and pretend that everything was alright, her voice was soothing and forcedly calm.

"Eliás!" she exclaimed, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." He said. As he did, his eyes honed in on something behind her – a figure. It groaned slightly, and Lýdie turned her attention back to them.

"Hush poppet, Díla will be back in a bit."

"What are you doing here?"

She glanced back at him, and moved herself out of his eye's way. On the floor in her arms was a little girl, only about eight years old, with burn marks all over her. "Díla, do you have that water?" she called, "I was waiting." She answered him, "I thought there might still be Germans outside."

"The streets are clear." He said, "But, Lýdie..."

She cuddled the only girl he could see and a few moments later, another girl of about thirteen appeared from a utility room carrying a bowl of water and a cloth. "I heard it on the news..." she started to cry, her tears dampening the carpet as well as herself, "I was too late..." she cried, sniffing, "They're the only ones left."

Eliás could see that some of the burns were already infected. "She needs a doctor." He said.

"But I can't take her to one." She said, "No Jews allowed in doctors' surgeries."

"But..."

"I was going to bring them back with me." She said, "I didn't want you to follow me. It'll be obvious now."

"The streets are deserted." He said, "I think they should anyway. My father was a doctor, I'm sure I have the number of an 'out-of-hours' doctor somewhere."

Eliás heard footsteps behind him, quickly followed by Anděl's voice. He pushed past the younger vampyre and knelt at Lýdie's side, putting his arms around her.

"I'm sorry." She said, "I didn't want you to worry."

He looked at the two girls with his mate. "Díla, and... Katja, am I right?"

The two girls stared at his blond-haired blue-eyed figure with stars in their eyes, while the older one tugged at Lýdie's sleeve. "Lýdie, is this Anděl?"

She chuckled and nodded. "It is."

"And it is an honour to finally meet Lýdie's family." He said.

Lýdie saw Eliás smug face. He had already worked it out. "They're my great nieces." She said, just to clarify anyway.

"We should go." Said Anděl.

"Alright." Eliás passed Lýdie his sword, "Let's go."

"Are you sure it's clear?" she asked.

"Yes. And if it isn't we're prepared."

"Okay girls." She said, getting to her feet and taking each girl by the hand, although Katja, the younger girl looked to be in considerable discomfort.

"Here." Said Anděl, leaning down and picking the girl up, "I'll take her."

"_I didn't know you had a soft spot children." _Said Lýdie through their telepathic link, another thing that soulmates developed.

"_I don't particularly, but I can still carry an injured one." _

Eliás rolled his eyes. "No telepathy in public."

* * *

**R&R!**


	4. Happy New Year

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Hello! Here's chapter 4!**

**To TeaTime: I can't write review replies to anon reviews so I thought I'd write one here... That's okay, I was looking for something to write anyway and this was a really good idea, and I'm defo continuing it, I wish Eliás was a character in the books... I love Antonie too, which is why this chapter is sad, but it's not the last we hear of her so don't worry. I want the story to get funnier in the later chapters, it's not too funny at the moment because it deals with the Holocaust and Auschwitz and stuff like that, but it will get funnier I promise! Thank you for your lovely comments, they mean a lot to me!!! **

* * *

_2__nd__ January 1943_

* * *

When lessons resumed after midnight, Eliás was finally happy to settle back down to work. He had called a human doctor, a friend of his father's to the House for Lýdie's great niece. One thing he loved about doctors, they never complained or grumbled when you called them in the night-time hours.

Eliás' laboratory was an extension of the S&R Department, and up until now, had been seldom used, as he far preferred the state-of-the-art labs at the University. Since the War had reached the University, working there had been out of the question, and he had carried on his research at the House of Night.

He was now beginning to understand the science of the Change, although he still did not know why the Change was instigated in some individuals, those that would become vampyres, and in some it wouldn't, humans. He had extremely limited resources here, but of course, the University was completely controlled by the Germans, even the Czechoslovakian half. It wasn't that Eliás was afraid of the German forces, if he kept his wits around him he wasn't in any direct danger from them, in fact he was well known among their ranks as "that lightning vampyre". The Czechoslovakian professors and doctors had all been replaced with German ones, and that wasn't even the problem. The problem was, that they had started experimentation on humans.

It was truly the most disgusting thing Eliás had ever heard of in his life. Those people that were being shipped to the concentration camps, some were being sent to laboratories for drug trials. He was sent a list of trials that were currently being undertaken by the Third Reich and their statistics. And he admitted; he had felt physically sick.

There were experiments underway to 'cure' homosexuality, experiments on twins to see if the body could be manipulated, genetics aside. 1500 sets of twins. 200 individuals survived. 100 people dead from freezing experiments, deliberate malaria infection, from that half of all subjects died. People deliberately infected with gangrene, people unknowingly sterilised with X-Rays, experiments with poisons, incendiary bomb components, high altitude experiments... The list went on.

And they had asked him if he had wanted to be involved in it.

Eliás had walked out there and then, but not before destroying ever little piece of equipment the University laboratories contained. Their X-Ray machines, their anaesthetising machines, all of their drug stores, everything. The wall still stood on the outside, but when he was done, he made sure nothing, nothing was left on the inside. Never before had he felt so angry or moved. Still, to this, date, he considered it the greatest purpose his affinity had ever had, and for the first time in his life, felt that it was the true gift and blessing that everyone else except him seemed to think. It actually gave him pleasure to see the place that he had worked in for most of his life, ever since being a student there, destroyed. Not an ounce of sadness, only a fierce pride. They couldn't hurt people there now. Unfortunately, it didn't stop them from sending him letters with little swastikas on them. Of course he wasn't very popular with the Germans after that, but they couldn't even touch him.

Yes, he was truly thankful for his powers now.

And yet it was still happening, in Auschwitz, in Dachau... Whenever he thought about it he could never sleep the following night.

"Eliás?"

Adéla poked her head around the door. "Your night's about to get worse."

* * *

She closed the door to her study behind them quietly, the tick of the grandfather clock in the corner the only sound to be heard. "You'll be needed back in the Infirmary soon, but before they call you I have some very disturbing news to impart." She indicated with her hand from him to sit down. Adéla was never serious. Never. Something was horribly wrong.

He swallowed in an attempt to dampen his dry throat. "What is it?"

"You kept contact with Antonie after you all Changed." she said.

He nodded. "Yes, we write quite regularly."

She looked sad. "I'm sorry to tell you this Eliás..." She said, close to tears herself, her voice breaking, "But Antonie and her family were sent to Auschwitz this afternoon."

The world stopped around them and suddenly none of his internal organs were there. He froze, not even able to inhale. "No..."

Adéla continued slowly. "They and thirty other families were murdered with mustard gas in the early hours of this evening."

His eyes narrowed in disbelief... He felt tears at the brims of his eyes, but didn't let them fall. His lungs screamed for air, finally registering his inability to breath. He inhaled sharply, the cold air cutting into his throat and forcing its way into his lungs, but no matter how big a breath he took, it was never enough. How could they do that to innocent people??? Antonie was his best friend!!! She had written to him just yesterday!!! His eyes blurred as he imagined her in that gas chamber, her thrown in a pile of dead naked bodies, her smouldering inside an incinerator...

_Monsters..._

He slammed his fist onto the arm of the chair, clenching his jaw. Why? Why was he doing it? It wouldn't bring her back!

"Eliás..." said Adéla softly, a tear rolling down her cheek. "She was lucky... You know what happens there... She didn't suffer indignity or experimentation; they didn't break her back with labour..." she paused to swallow, "She sent me a telepathic message... As she went in..." she saw Eliás going white with shock, "She wanted me to tell you that she will miss you, and to tell you not to be upset for her, but to be happy for her."

"She knew she was going to die!!!" he shouted, a single tear falling, "She sat in that... that _gas chamber _and she _knew_ she was going to die!!! Are you telling me she was happy then? Are you telling me that she just accepted it, as she walked in there without reason nor _dignity_??? Are you telling me she wasn't afraid, that she wasn't crying??? How can I be happy for her when I _know_ she was???!!!"

Moreover, why had she sent a message to Adéla and not to him? He could have helped her!

"Eliás..." she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "We wouldn't have got there in time."

"How do they sleep at night Adéla? When I barely can?" he clasped his hands into fists to stop himself from swiping her hand away, "I'm supposed to have this ridiculous affinity... And I'm still powerless!!!"

"She went to stay with the children." Said Adéla eventually. He looked around at her and she went on, "They separate people there... That's why she looked after them so much in the first place, because their parents were gone, only the grandparents – her parents - remained. They sort people into those fit to work, and those fit only to die. She knew that. She knew that if she didn't go, the grandparents would definitely be deemed unfit to work and the children might be forced to work or forced to partake in these _experiments_ on their own. She didn't want them to have to go alone."

He snorted. "And she died for that."

Adéla wiped her cheek with her sleeve. "She did."

"And Petr?" he asked, "Did he go too?"

"He tried to help her..." she began.

Eliás pulled a sickened face, suddenly regretting asking the question."He failed her!!!" he yelled, "Does he call himself her warrior??? He gave her his word, his _oath_!!!"

"He tried Eliás. His affinity gave him no advantage..."

"_Fuck his affinity!!! What about his conscience_???"

"They shot him. He's in surgery here now."

Eliás looked up from his lap. "I can't do anything." He said, "Antonie is dead. He has a week at most."

"Biology aside, he is a broken man. He's on the verge of killing himself. Antonie wanted me to ask you to make his last days comfortable for him. She didn't want him to suffer. She told him that a very dear friend of hers was here and would be able to help him." Eliás was silent. "Can you do that?"

He thought for a moment and nodded. "I can." He said, getting up from the chair and turning in his heel. In a second he was gone.

* * *

Eliás burst through the Infirmary doors, looking around for a sign of any staff. The on-duty nurse, a small vampyre called Veronika, whipped out from around a corner. "Dr. Svboda, there's a bereavement case in bed six – Adéla said to refer him to you." She said, passing over a chart into his hands.

Bed six.

He was at its side in a shot and reviewing the chart notes. The male vampyre was crying, his face raw with tear-trails, his body sobbing, his heart broken, his soul ripped in two. The bullets had been removed, but something told Eliás that the vampyre wished that they hadn't been. With IVs in his arm, from the chart Eliás could see that he had been heavily sedated, although he wasn't asleep. Nothing would make him sleep now. Eliás could barely believe how much he hated this man, only ever having met him a handful of times.

"Petr?" he said, "It's Dr. Svboda."

"Eliás..." he whispered, looking up at him, "Antonie..."

"_You failed her._" Eliás thought to himself, he couldn't help it. "Antonie was my best friend for many years." He said frostily.

"I failed her..." he murmured as he cried. At least they agreed on that, "I'd do _anything _to bring her back..."

Eliás wanted to throw the chart to the floor with anger. _"Well you can't you stupid bastard!!!"_ he thought to himself, _"You missed your chance!!!"_

"What did she tell you?" he murmured.

He glared. "To make you comfortable."

Petr scoffed, and groaned at the pain the wounds were causing him. "I have one thing I want you to do for me, Dr. Svboda. Will you promise me you will do it?"

"If Antonie would find it honourable, then yes." He answered.

Petr looked him dead in the eye. "I'm going to die." He said, shuddering "I've never felt pain like this... It will only get worse with the thirst..." Eliás thought he knew what was coming. "Kill me." He said. He seemed glad at Eliás' lack of surprise, "If you do one thing for me, can you please let me go now? _Please_..." he cried, "_I can't stand this pain anymore..._"

Eliás felt guilty. His goal was to save lives not end them, but he had a point. An awful point. The pain of losing a vampyre soulmate was said to be the worst physical pain caused by emotional bereavement in existence. It was also, in the vampyre world, the single worst emotional pain, the bond soulmates shared couldn't break. The bond, the Imprint couldn't and so the vampyres' souls had to. And it killed them. It would be hurting Antonie too, wherever she was. He took a very deep breath. "If I do this..." he said, "Will you promise me one thing?" he nodded, "In the Otherworld... Will you tell Antonie, that I miss her, tell her, I will control Johan and Milan from now on... Tell her from me, that there never was a better, funnier, more down-to-earth friend than her and that if I should ever aspire to be anyone, it would be her."

Petr nodded and smiled. "I will tell her." He offered his hand, and Eliás took his wrist and shook it firmly.

Silently, he went to the meds safe, unlocked it and picked up a bottle of anaesthetic that was used to knock out ops patients before being transferred to gas. Shaking it, he walked slowly back to the bed, opening a clean needle and syringe, connecting them, and drawing up the clear liquid into the syringe. He drew up eight times the dose necessary to induce a coma, and connected the syringe to the IV in his arm.

He looked at Petr one last time. "Merry meet..." he pushed on the plunger, "Merry part, and merry meet again."

It was in.

"Look after her." He said, as he watched Petr fall into a doze. "_I will... Nyx bless you_..." he whispered, as he fell into a deep sleep. Eliás picked up the nearest stethoscope and placed it over the man's heart. Listening, listening, until there was nothing to listen for.

* * *

Later, Eliás sat gingerly on the bed of the vampyre he had just killed, perching so lightly, like he was afraid that the entire bed would collapse beneath his weight. He pondered how difficult it should be to do something like that, and then the ease with which he had done it. Did that make him cold? The fact that he had put Petr out of extreme misery was just consolation enough. Numbly, he fumbled around in his pocket until he found the now crumpled up letter that he had received earlier. Unfolding each crease like it was something so delicate he might break it, and he didn't want to break it. Did he even want to read it? Eliás liked to move on from deaths. He didn't like prolonged mourning. Mourning couldn't bring somebody back from the Otherworld. It would only hurt you. He didn't dwell, he could fight through something as long as there were no reminders, and here was one. As he sat there simply looking at it, he remembered what her voice sounded like when she greeted him, what she looked like, what her Mark was, her little snide comments that made him laugh. Now she was nothing. Probably recycled as fertiliser on a German farm along with pig muck. He sighed, and began to read the words, the ink stabbing his eyes with familiarity.

"'_Eliás, Happy New Year! Good to hear you wrecked those labs, but if you had wrecked the doctors I would be even happier. You would have saved America millions in legal fees for when we get out of this mess. It's the closest I've come to laughing in a week. You'd laugh, I've been walking around in a Dirdl all week and this thing itches! I have to wear a dirndl but the men don't have to wear Lederhosen. And thank the Goddess too, because if I had to be seen with a man in Lederhosen I'd... Well, I believe the usual term is 'shoot myself'... I'd sooner shoot him... Any minimal excitement that I might have been able to gleam from pretending to be someone else is now long extinct, the children think it's all just a dressing up game, at least my father can't mock me in public for not marrying a Roma. I am on the verge of locking him in the cellar. Either that or committing him to a mental asylum. I'm praying for wisdom to understand him and patience to withstand him, because Goddess if I pray for strength, I _will_ beat him to death. I still haven't decided which option I prefer, I'll need to hear your thoughts on that one. I will be alright I think, when people see me the first thing that happens to float into their pea-sized brains is fortunately "vampyre", not "gypsy", and that I can tell you for definite. One day I poked a little too far around in someone's and I'm still recovering from it, I think I've been blighted for life. ... Use your imagination I'm not going to describe it for you. Not much else to report here, I continue to work with idiots... Not really sure why really... I wish I knew what the New Year would bring. Although, hint, if you trundled along with some of that House of Night wine and maybe some biscuits and cheese it would be nice. You had better come and visit me soon, because if I do go down, I'm taking you with me, because Goddess knows when I get to Hell, I'm going to need some intelligent conversation._

_Yours, _

_Antonie'" _

So how much better were vampyres really?

Not even Antonie, a 'powerful' vampyre could save herself.

And vampyres thought that they were a superior race? Eliás' stomach turned.

He briefly began to wonder if she had fought... He had so many questions that would never have answers... Had she shouted? Punched, kicked, screamed? Had they hit her? Had they had to throw her through the door to that gas chamber?

Eliás finally let the tears through, when no one was watching. _"You did take me with you..." _He thought, as he held the letter away from him to avoid it getting tear-stained. All these images were flurrying through his mind, all these horrible, violent, awful images, of her, her family, the others, the gas cylinders hitting the floor... He could hear the harsh voices of the German soldiers barking orders, babies crying, the roaring of wheels against track as the train rolled into the station, bringing yet more hundreds of innocent men women and children. He could smell mustard gas.

Through it all, he could see her. He could see her face, her clothes torn and dirtied, her hair dank in the misty rain. He could see her holding the hands of the children, huddling them close. She was looking straight at him, her eyes robbed of their normal charismatic twinkle. Her mouth was moving, but her eyes never blinked. Then, like a television that had been set to mute and then had the volume turned up, he heard her.

"_Eliás!"_

He the shock forced him from his skin, like a taste of his own medicine, startling him so much that he almost fell off the bed. Suddenly all he was seeing was the Infirmary floor, hearing the bleeping of the monitors, smelling the carbolic acid mist, but that didn't stop his entire body from shaking.

"Antonie?"

* * *

**R&R!**


	5. Intelligent Conversation

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Right this is a really short one, just the end of the 1943 era, it probs should have gone on the end of the other one, but to Hell with it, here it is. **

**To TeaTime: Wow thank you that is a real compliment!!! I love the Importance of Being Earnest! :) Yeah lol I like the ideas, but, now this sounds bad, but I can't stand Zoey. To me, the content of the books is quite dark and not for "younger readers", but then it's written in a very tweeny way, almost for 11-12 year-olds, and it's just such a big contrast, that why in Resurrected several characters tell Zoey that she's 17, not 5. And for a main character, she's too tweeny. In my opinion anyway lol. As a character she's great, just not as the main one, I don't relate to her at all, I relate far more to Lenobia as a character. I'm really glad that someone shares my opinion hahaha, thanks!!! The next chapter is where she comes into this one! You know, I can't see one single mistake in your English, it's excellent and I have absolutely no problem understanding your reviews. So what's your mother-tongue? And btw do you have an account I can message or something so I don't have to reply on the chapters? I don't mind it it's just it'll take us a long time to have a conversation lol. **

* * *

"_Eliás?"_

Eliás had to hold onto the side of the bed to stop himself falling off. "Antonie?" he said suddenly, jerking back into reality. His eyes darted to the clock on the Infirmary wall. Quarter to three.

Veronika, who was folding clean linen a few beds down, suddenly looked up at him, a bed-sheet hung over her arm. "Are you alright?" she asked, smoothing it with a hand.

"No..." he murmured, letting the hand with the letter in it rest of the bed, "But who is?"

Walking over to the nurses' station, she leant behind the counter and picked up a box of tissues, before holding it out to him. "Here you go poppet." She said, "Dry your eyes."

"Thanks..." he said, taking the box from her and pulling one out.

"I suppose he's good to go the mortuary then?"

"Yes." He said, "Veronika, please don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't." She said, "You did the right thing you know."

"I know. I just don't know if other people will think that." He sighed, "Do you ever get depressed working in here?"

"All the time." She said, as she went back to linen folding. "But things like this give me hope." She dove into the pocket of her apron and fished out a little leaflet, passing it to him too.

"What is it?" he said.

"A friend of mine lives in Austria. She says these are going around like wildfire in southern Germany and Austria. Distributed by a youth movement at the University of Munich apparently. They call themselves the White Rose."

Eliás opened the leaflet, and read through the printed words aloud.

"_Isn't it true that every honest German is ashamed of his government these days? Who among us has any conception of the dimensions of shame that will befall us and our children when one day the veil has fallen from our eyes and the most horrible of crimes – crimes that infinitely outdistance every human measure – reach the light of day?"_

"Daring." He said, "But infinitely correct."

* * *

That morning, as Eliás prepared to go to bed, he thought once more of the leaflet, his photographic memory recalling each flick in the ink of the printed font perfectly. It really was a beautiful piece of writing. Veronika was right – it did give hope.

He just wished it had given hope for Antonie.

Empty words that weren't empty.

"_Elias..."_

He sat bolt upright, his fingers frozen around the button of his shirt that he was undoing. His other hand flew to the side of his head, rubbing it while his eyes blinked. His head was playing tricks on him...

"_Bloody sceptic!"_

"Antonie...?"

Eliás jumped as her voice resounded off the insides of his skull. _"Yes you idiot!"_

He looked around his room and frowned, his eyes frantic. "I'm going insane."

"_Now he clocks it..."_

He closed his eyes and concentrated, now sure that there was no actual sound in his room. "How am I hearing you?"

"_I'm a telepath. Apparently the signal's good where you are."_

"You're communicating from the Otherworld?"

"_You know for a redhead you don't half have some blonde moments."_

Of course there was no chance that she was still alive. "Well, I just found out you were murdered this morning."

"_You didn't cry did you?"_

He weighed it up. "Well..."

"_Oh good Goddess you did..."_

"Why shouldn't I?"

She was quiet for a moment. _"Well, it's kinda nice for someone to cry for me I suppose. But I don't want you to waste your life being sad for me."_

"Why are you talking to me?" he asked her, continuing to change into his pyjamas.

"_Eliás..." _she said, _"It's not me keeping the telepathic link open. It's you. And geez if you were gonna strip I'd have picked a better time! Nice abs by the way."_

"Er, thanks."

"_You'd get some with those. And the tears."_

"I refuse to talk about sex with a dead woman."

She laughed. _"Fine."_

"Antonie... You know I can't stand prolonged mourning..."

Her voice went quiet. _"I'm not making this hard for you my friend. You are. It's your mind reaching out for mine, not vice versa. It's not your fault, but you have to learn to let me go."_

"I'm trying..." he said.

"_I know." _She said. _"I know you don't want to feel the pain. But you have to feel the pain, because if you can't feel the pain, then you can't feel the good things either." _

* * *

**R&R!**


	6. Die Rittmeisterin

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Next chap already. If you guys are wondering how I typed ten pages in half an hour I prewrote a lot of this stuff, this chap was actually the first one I wrote, so I can tie them all in together later. So these next few won't take long to upload. Enjoy! Lenobia's first appearance! **

* * *

_5__th__ April 1945_

* * *

It's always the most trivial things that pull you headfirst into the thick of it.

Eliás had heard the news at breakfast earlier that evening. The Czechoslovakian Intelligence at the university had received an emergency telegram from resistance fighters in France. One operation, consisting of rogue soldiers of the German Wehrmacht, which strove to evacuate Jewish children out to France and Czechoslovakia by effectively dissolving their documented parentage, had been discovered in Munich. What made him feel even more sick was that it hadn't even been a blunder on the Resistance's part, it had literally just been bad luck, they had coincidentally planned a 'visit' – where the rogues knocked on the doors of Jewish people and spread anti-Nazi propaganda and offered to ensure their children's safe passage abroad – at the same time as a site raid.

Of course, it had been an absolute bloodbath. The humans involved had been killed instantly. However, it was interesting to learn, that one or two of the Resistance fighters had been vampyres, who, being more robust than humans, had survived, but were in desperate need of medical attention. And Eliás had rather underestimated the speed at which the Czechoslovakian Resistance had transported the casualties to Prague. Of course, Czechoslovakia was far closer to Munich than France, and the only place with the facilities to treat them was the House of Night.

This time, Eliás was lucky enough to be walking through the halls. Anyone who didn't know him better might have thought he was some kind of immaculate evil scientist working for the government, his business-like attitude wiping clear the stress from his surface. He had been working in the Infirmary for weeks now, barely finding time to sleep, let alone work. Finally, he had managed to find a quiet evening, and yet he found himself trudging back up to what he had now dubbed a 'make-shift hospital'. And here was the trivial thing. Rubber gloves were required for handling chemicals and biological specimens, and he had run out. The stockroom in the Infirmary had more. Pushing onto the left of a set of large double doors, he entered the Infirmary, the smell of spirits and carbolic acid misting the air.

Veronika bustled up to him, her apron and uniform covered in blood, her gloved hands dripping. "Dr. Svboda!" she hissed, "The casualties have just arrived, and it's worse than we thought!!!"

Eliás immediately forgot the gloves and went into medical-mode. "How many are there?"

"Three." Said Veronika, gesturing for him to follow her into the operating theatre. There was no time to scrub up.

Two anaesthetists, with whom he was good friends, and two surgeons were operating on a wounded man, his Nazi uniform opened to reveal about five bullet holes in his torso.

"He was the second to arrive." Said Veronika, before looking to another bed at the side, "The first is in Recovery. She arrived half an hour after the others."

She?

Eliás followed Veronika's gaze over to a bed. Sure enough, a young female vampyre, also dressed in a Nazi Army uniform with a golden yellow piping cord, lay on a bed in the corner, waiting her turn for the operating table. Even though this woman was actually an ally, an undercover resistance fighter, Eliás could still barely hide his disgust from the the sight of the green uniform. He had to remind himself that it was Nazis he hated, he didn't hate all Germans, but there were so many that he did. Good Goddess it was horrific. There was blood everywhere. Nurses bandaged like crazy as the woman, who was, actually still half-conscious, tried to knock their hands away with her arm. Her entire body could have been a colander it was so full of holes, she was so full of lead you could have sharpened her head and called her a pencil! It was a miracle nothing had hit her in the head.

Veronika frowned sadly. "She's the worst. She asked us to shoot her before we gave her premeds."

His breath caught in his throat as he looked at her – she was strikingly beautiful, her long hair was a silvery blonde that had been tied in a tight bun but had managed to work its way out in her misfortunate journey here, and was now falling out around her shoulders in weathered wavy strands. Her Mark was an intricate pattern of knots with horses within them on her snowy white skin, which was in places dirtied with blood and dirt. His eyes darted over her figure before he forced them back to her face, she was slim, but not delicate, not someone you could push around. More the strong kind of girl that could hold her own, who would put up a fight if she had to. She was just the type of woman Hitler wanted in his Aryan society. One question nagged at him – what the Hell was a woman doing in the German Army? Albeit a vampyre. For one it was illegal, secondly, how had she ever wanted to be there? He shook himself out of his trance and began to assist the nurses, drawing up anaesthetic to numb her pain.

The woman started as a nurse pushed a needle into her arm, her eyes opening wide to reveal their stormy grey colour. Her entire body shuddered and she screwed her eyes shut again as agony tore through her. She was trying not to scream, her eyes began to leak tears. Eliás had never had the heart for war, and definitely not one that could deal with people in pain like this, even if his brain could. Finally, he slammed the syringe and bottle of injection onto the meds trolley and pushed his way through the nurses towards the top end of the bed. As he extended his hand towards her, she flinched and moved away as much as she could, her wounds restricting that to simply turning her head. He placed his hand gently over her forehead, his cool palm soothing the fever soaring through her head. He closed his eyes and extended his mind into her body, sensing the tiny electric fields of the nerve cells in the back of her neck. Concentrating, he gently created his own little electric fields in those nerve cells, counteracting the depolarisation of the cell membranes, immediately halting the message from the neurones from reaching her brain, instantly easing the pain into nothing. She took a breath, and he also felt her relax beneath his palm as she realised what he was doing, and looked at him in a manner of awe. She was still frightened - for all she knew she could be awaiting her turn in a torture chamber or an electric chair, they could be telling her they were helping her and then give her a lethal sedative overdose. Eliás went further, making his way down right to her heart. The little electric pulses going from the sinoatrial node to the atrioventricular node to the Bundle of His near its apex were coming far far too fast. The same thing again, and he very very carefully slowed the pulses, letting her weary heart relax and work at a normal pace again.

The woman seemed to be calmer now, and Eliás numbed her neck just a little bit more so that she wouldn't feel it as the nurses placed the needles into the back of her hand. He kept his hand over her forehead until the nurses had administered the sedative and anaesthetic, only removing it when he was sure she was out cold, and then only letting his mental grip on the pain blocks go gradually, until he was absolutely sure the drugs were working.

* * *

After the surgeons had extracted the bullets, a good ten hours later, Eliás went to give her another injection of painkillers. He hadn't left the Infirmary since earlier, there had simply been too much to do for him to walk out again. The two male vampyres were out cold, dosed up with sedatives while they healed. The female was just beginning to come around from the anaesthetic, her eyes trying to blink through the strong drugs.

Eliás walked over to her bed and looked at her notes – thirty bullets to the torso, and another twelve to the legs. He picked up a bottle of meds in his left hand and shook it, while his other hand checked the IV in the back of her right hand. She flinched as he did so. As his eyes wondered up the IV drip to the bag of sodium chloride on the stand, he suddenly felt her needle-ridden hand clutch onto his.

"_Hilf mir..._" she muttered, "_Hilf mir..._"

"_Help me... Help me..."_

He watched as she blinked again, trying desperately to see. He saw her eyes flicker – she could see him, but only just. She took a breath and her head lolled away, a knowing tug at her lips appeared like she was mocking something.

"_Ich hab ein Geschoß ins Herz erbeten und mir schick'n sie 'nen schönen Mann_..." She whispered with as much personality as the sedative allowed.

"_I asked for a bullet in the heart and they send me a handsome man..."_

With his left hand, Eliás attached the syringe of drugs to the IV tube, and gently pressed on the plunger, noting how even when her eyes drooped, the sedative drugs they had given her doing nothing to loosen her grip. Eliás immediately regretted never learning any German.

"Don't worry..." he said, his soft Czech words reaching her ears. Her eyes were barely open, mostly closed, her hand reacting as he rubbed it gently. It was like a way of speaking, like she was letting him know that she was in there, that she could hear him, even if she couldn't understand him. Their fingers intertwined and a small smile appeared on her face. He really should be drawing up meds for her. Placing the bottle of sedative drug back onto the trolley by her bed, he stepped around the IV stand, and sat in the chair normally reserved for visitors. She was only just conscious, and he doubted she could see anything as he saw the blankness in her eyes when she tried to open them.

"_Danke_..." she breathed, her head lolling to the side slightly, "_Das schätz' ich wert_."

"_Thank you... I appreciate this..."_

"What are you doing here?" he asked, himself more than her, knowing full well she couldn't understand him. "What's your story?" he paused for a moment, "Sorry about this." He said. The surgeons had extracted the bullets, with difficulty, they might have added. The prognosis was not good. Being a vampyre it was difficult to say how, or if she would recover to full strength, but from what his research had taught him, with injuries like these, it was likely that she would be disabled for the rest of her life. They had to keep dosing her up with painkillers and sedatives to numb the pain for her, but she must be afraid. Incapacitated in a strange place, where she couldn't speak the language and she didn't know what was happening to her. Eliás simply began talking for the purpose of letting her know that there was someone there. "I know it's not pleasant, but it's necessary."

"_Ich will nach Hause... Warum bring'n Sie mich nich' nach Hause_?"

"_I want to go home... Why won't you let me go home?"_

Eliás squeezed her hand. He needed Friedrich. "You're safe." He said, "You're safe here." He reached over for her noted again, "What's your name?" he asked her.

"_Mein Vater braucht mich, ich muss zu meinem Vater..."_

"_My father needs me, I have to go to my father..."_

Veronika bustled back into the Infirmary, just having changed into a clean uniform. "Have you given her her meds?" she asked.

"Yes." He replied, "Would you please send a message to Friedrich and tell him we need a translator?"

"I was just thinking that myself actually." She said, putting on a clean apron, "I'll send someone."

"Thanks." He lowered his gaze to the notes chart and flicked through the pages. No name. "Veronika?" he raised his voice slightly so that it would carry to the next room where the nurse now was.

"Yes?" she called back.

"Do we have names for these patients yet?"

"None been telegrammed from Munich so far. I'm not sure they even know for certain. Her uniform has yellow piping on it, although off the top of my head I wouldn't know what that makes her."

The woman's arm flinched suddenly, and she resumed her grip on his hand, tossing her head like she was having a nightmare. She seemed to be forcing herself to calm.

"It's alright." He said, "It's alright, I'm still here."

"_Ich hab' Angst..._" she muttered, entwining her fingers with his again, "_Ich hab' Angst..._"

"_I'm afraid... I'm afraid..."_

At that moment, the door opened and the Horse Master's tall frame strode into the Infirmary.

"Friedrich, glad you came."

"How could I not?" he said, going to the bed and staring himself as he saw the person in it was female. "Wait, how...?"

"I know. Maybe you could talk to her for a bit."

Friedrich nodded and went to the other side of the bed and took her hand in his. "Hallo?" he said clearly, "Könn'n Sie mich hör'n?"

"_Hello? ... Can you hear me?"_

She clutched his hand as well. "_Ja_..." she said, "_Ja kann ich_..."

"_Yes... Yes I can..."_

"Sie sind im Prager Haus der Nacht." He continued, "Ich bin Friedrich, und der der bei Ihnen an der rechten Seite sitzt ist Dr. Eliás Svboda."

"_You are at the Prague House of Night... I am Friedrich, and the man sitting at your right side is Dr. Eliás Svboda."_

"_Svboda... Sie sind der Blitzvampyr..." _she said, looking at Eliás, _"Worüber's alles geredet wird..."_

"_Svboda... You're the lightning vampyre... That everyone talks about..."_

"She recognises your name, because you're that 'lightning vampyre'." Said Friedrich.

"_Ich danke ihnen vielmals_..." she said, "_Mein Name ist Lenobia Engelheimer_."

"_Thank you so much."_

Friedrich looked at Eliás. "She says her name is Lenobia Engelheimer."

"Don't ask her anything detailed, the drugs are strong and she's half in and out of cuckoo-land as it is, anything she tells us now may not be accurate and she probably won't remember having told us when she comes off the medicine."

"I'll keep it simple. Ich hab' nur noch n Paar Fragen an Sie..." he said, turning to Lenobia, "Wie alt sind Sie Lenobia?"

"_I just have a few questions for you... How old are you Lenobia?"_

"_Sechsundvierzig_."

"She's forty-six." He said, "Und ihre Dienstgradbezeichnung?"

"_And your military rank?"_

"Ich bin Rittmeisterin der deutschen Kavallerie."

Friedrich's eyes flashed. "Ah I see..." he said, then taking the time to explain, "She's a Captain of the Cavalry, which was absorbed into the Infantry and Transport ranks in 39, so she's a fairly important figure in the mobile troops. But I just remembered something, the last head of the German Cavalry was a man called Dieter Engelheimer, he was killed a few years back in an air raid." Friedrich looked down at her, "It's possible that this is his daughter. He had, four boys if I remember rightly, and one girl. All the boys went into the Army, I wonder if they made an exception for her on account of her being vampyre?"

"Maybe."

"What will happen to her?"

Eliás thought for a moment. "Well she can't go back to Germany, that's for sure." He said, "Not now that she's known to have committed high treason. She'd face a firing squad and they'd shoot her until she _was _dead. All of them will. I'm not even sure if she will walk again, but she may surprise us. She'll have to stay here for the time being anyway."

"You realise that they will be looking for her." Said Friedrich worriedly, "And the others. They can't be found here Eliás. The Germans will break down the doors and search us if they have to, it doesn't matter if they die trying now. They can't be found. And neither can I and neither can Lýdie or her nieces."

"You're lucky." Said Veronika, handing a piece of paper to Eliás, "This just arrived from Munich."

Eliás took the telegram and unfolded it, his eyes scanning through the words. "They think they're dead." He said suddenly, "All three. Intelligence doubts a search will take place."

"Thank the Goddess."

Veronika did not look so happy. "That's not all." She said, "Keep reading."

"The Soviet Army is due to enter Prague on the 11th May, yes we know that, four days after the planned revolt against the German Occupants, yes we know that, the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia, the KSČ, encouraged by the colossal support gained from the currently probably liberation by the Soviet Army, without alarming the West, and are fully expecting a successful vote in the 1946 election. Institutions first seized to include the Univerzita Karlova v Praze, Písek Gate, as well as various embassies..." he voice trailed away into nothing... "Communist powers are making moves to seize control in Czechoslovakia in the run up to the armistice... No, no, no..." he groaned, turning the paper away and looking at it again, maybe the sentence wouldn't be there this time... Sure enough it was. "_Isn't bloody Russia proof enough that bloody Communism doesn't work_???!!!"

Veronika gave him an understanding glance. "Keep reading."

"Oh no..." Eliás stuttered after a moment.

Friedrich looked puzzled. "What?"

Eliás looked up at his colleague. "German Intelligence..." he began, "Predicts that an expulsion of Germans from Czechoslovakia and surrounding countries will be scheduled as soon as the German armies retreat. It is not yet known if exceptions will be made for those with Czech spouses or those who have renounced German nationality."

Friedrich's eyes fell. He looked extremely uncomfortable in his skin, before letting out a silent sigh. "I'll have to go." He said finally.

"No you won't." Said Eliás firmly. "You're not going anywhere. We'll find a way, we'll hide you if we have to! I doubt the armies will retreat for another few weeks, they can't make sure they get every single German in the country!"

"Still Eliás, I won't bring violence upon this place by simply being here when I could go and it would remain peaceful."

"It hasn't been peaceful for the past thirty years; it isn't going to start to be now! You've been here through thick and thin for the past three hundred years, we aren't going to let you go without a fight now."

* * *

**R&R!**


	7. Das Gleiche

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Another one!**

**To TeaTime: Thank you!!! The words from the White Rose I found on their Wikipedia article, I didn't translate them, they were already translated into English, but they are real I didn't make them up. They are lovely words. I am definitely going to write about Eliás becoming a High Priest, which happens in 1960. Lenobia will go home when the war ends, which isn't far from now and then he doesn't see her until the Resurrected time. It's partially already written, I can't decide if the Vamp Council would be supportive or be hell-bent against it.**

** I tend to see things through the eyes of the adult vamps, I particularly like Lenobia, Dragon and Anastasia, obviously lol, Lenobia because she's Lenobia, she's a horsewoman I'm a horsewoman, and Dragon and Anastasia, out of all the relationships in the books theirs kinda struck me from the beginning because in the vamp world where everything is so sexually overt, to marry, to love one person and stay faithful to one person seems very special to me. **

**If I were in the books, Zoey, Aphrodite and the Twins would annoy the Hell out of me, Damien and Jack aren't too bad I suppose, Erik Heath Stark and Loren might as well be Zoey's chewtoys, I can't stand that they have no purpose other than to be her boyfriends. Although I like Stevie Rae she's a bit naive, Neferet is quite cool but she's evil. If I had to re-pick the main character I would probably pick Stevie-Rae or Damien, I think. ;) I can't think of a way to send messages, I was gonna ask if you had SchülerVZ or something, but you need a name for that. If you have an account, you can access my e-mail address via my profile, accounts are free and you can delete it afterwards if you like, but otherwise I'm all out of ideas. **

* * *

_3__rd__ May 1945_

* * *

It had been four weeks since the German vampyres had been admitted to the Infirmary, the break into May being a stressful one. Eliás growled to himself under his breath – that vampyre anaesthetic drug needed serious work, despite being an excellent analgesic, it rendered patients amnesiac. No one who was given the drug in large doses was able to remember the events that had happened to them approximately thirty-six hours in the run up to administration, and their memories were groggy even afterwards as well. He swore to himself that if this war ever ended, which, thank the Goddess, it was now showing serious signs of doing, he would work on that drug, play around with the chemical structure a little bit, see if he could tweak it. Although, interestingly enough, patients were able to remember sounds and physical contact, but not what they saw through their eyes. Friedrich had questioned the German vampyres about it for him, and they had recognised his voice when he spoke to them, but hadn't even realised it was the same person on sight alone. It was the most annoying thing he had ever come across in Chemistry – making progress with these people, and then having to give them another dose of painkiller and being dragged kicking and screaming all the way back to square one. Despite this, they were all responding well to the treatment, and thanks to the vampyre anatomy having an extremely fast regenerative ability, the two male vamps had been up and about a little, but the female had remained almost comatose for all except a few hours of it.

It was now approaching midday, the windows of the Infirmary shuttered and locked down, keeping out any speck of sunlight there might have been. A few lamps were lit along the ward, but otherwise, it gave the impression that it was actually in the dead of night, the sleeping figures gently snoring, their chests rising and falling in a slow rhythm. In the dim light, Eliás worked through each bed, checking the drips, the IVs, that the notes were up to date. Veronika, who had worked an eighteen hour shift, he decided, had done enough, and he had offered to do the late shift for her. Just another half an hour, and another nurse would be here to relieve him. He shivered – the Infirmary was colder when there weren't bodies bustling and better things to do. The patients had electric blankets in their beds, a luxury that Eliás only dreamed of.

There were so many, indeed, that Eliás had almost forgotten about Antonie.

Almost.

Still every night when he went to sleep he tried to contact her again like he had the night after she died. Never again had he received an answer, however Eliás rather thought that that was due to her deliberately not answering him than the link being dead. He could still feel her presence lingering in his mind, the link was open, he was sure of it. Why wouldn't she reply? He got the idea that she was trying to wean him off her. It had to be that way, like she had died a mortal woman and there was no telepathic power. He had to move on with his life. And, for a little while over these two long years, he thought that he had done. Hadn't he?

A shuffle to his right caused him to look down the ward, like a matron looking over a dormitory. It was the female vampyre – he was sure she had been sleeping a minute ago. She was sitting up, pulling at her hospital nightgown uncomfortably. Eliás watched her for a moment, his attention aroused when she swung her legs out of bed and sat on the edge. Putting down the notes file and making a mental note of the bed he had got to, he took quiet steps up the ward until he got to her bed. She didn't notice he was there until the last minute and spun her head around, her long blonde hair whipping over her shoulder. There was confusion in her eyes and he felt a pang of sympathy. She didn't recognise him. Again.

"Dobré ráno Lenobia." He said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"_Good morning Lenobia."_

Her eyes narrowed and a small smirk pulled at her lips. She knew the sound of his voice even if she didn't remember what he looked like. "Dr. Svboda..." she said, raising her eyebrow slightly, before asking; "Was gücken Sie da?" _"What are you looking at?"_

Eliás looked at her sitting up and raised an eyebrow himself, continuing as if she could understand every word. "Co děláš?" _"What are you doing?"_

She looked at him blankly, before shaking her head, tutting to herself and swinging to bedcovers back, as if to chide herself for simply being here. "Ich hab genug von diesem verdammten Krankenhaus..." she muttered, "Ich will hier 'raus!" _"I've had enough of this damned hospital... I want to get out of here!"_

She seemed to be mentally bracing herself, before trying, gradually, to shift her weight off the bed and onto her feet, her knees shaking, before she fell back onto the mattress again. Looking thoroughly annoyed, she tried again, this time managing to stand, forcing herself to do it, the determination on her face was colossal. Eliás nearly blinked, he already admired her courage, it was like a vibe radiating from her, she was going to do it, even if it hurt her. He knew that a doctor of medicine, or indeed any sensible person should be telling her to get back into bed, but then again, he wasn't a doctor of medicine, despite being the closest thing to one the vampyre world had. Whether or not he was entirely sensible was also debatable. He toyed with the idea, and decided that he would let her try. If it was to give her peace of mind, or only to humour her, or both, Eliás wasn't sure. He could see she was going to fall again before she knew she was, and took two long strides to her side and caught her in one smooth motion. As soon as she was close enough to the bed to sit again, she launched herself away from him, like he had a deadly disease that she would get just by breathing the same air as him. Her face was stern and stubborn.

"Ich kann das alleine." She said, crossing her arms.

"_I can do it by myself."_

Eliás had a fairly good idea of what she thought – he had seen her try to walk, once before, and had accepted help from a female nurse, but not from him. She didn't want a man to help her. He supposed that holding one's own when you're the only woman in an army was crucial, in the same way men didn't like to accept help from women sometimes because it undermined their ability to do something themselves. He himself related, but he declined help from anyone, male or female. It was about pride. And if she wanted to try, he would let her. Raising both of his eyebrows, he held out the palm of his hand as if to say 'after you'. She gave him a tiny smile, an intuitive expression, before trying again to walk. She managed a few steps again, before the pain in her legs and stomach became too much and she fell. And he was there to catch her, again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up, being especially careful to avoid her gunshot wounds as he did so. She pulled a face at him, but this time made no attempt to knock him away, even putting an arm around his shoulder to steady herself as she took more steps.

"Můžete udělat to."

"_You can do it."_

"Ihre Anfeuerung brauch' ich nicht."

"_I can do without your cheerleading."_

"Sarkasmus..."

"_Sarcasm..."_

She suddenly looked at him, her grey eyes lively, like she had finally understood him. "Sarkasmus? Das kenne ich doch!" _"Sarcasm? I know that!"_

"Sarkasmus?"

"Sarkasmus."

"To znamená, že totéž v němčině?"

"_It means the same in German?"_

She laughed. "Es bedeutet das Gleiche." _"It means the same thing."_

His eyes also lively with recognition flickered in the weak light, finding it ironic that the word their languages had in common was 'sarcasm'. Chuckling, he noticed her shiver beneath her nightgown.

"Vám je zima."

"_You're cold."_

She seemed to know that he had felt it. If she had been stronger, she would have persevered, regardless of what he thought, but she was so tired... Sleeping twenty hours a day and still tired... She yawned, and gestured for him to turn back towards the bed. With bleary eyes, Lenobia saw the floor slowly fly out from under her feet, and something firm under her knees. He had picked her up? Normally Lenobia would have considered it embarrassing, she would take herself, thank you very much, but she felt a niggle of respect for this one, this male vampyre with a magical affinity, which was almost as unlikely as a woman in the army. Almost. It was a little thing he had that in common with her. He wasn't mocking her, he wasn't judging her, he accepted what she wanted to do, and let her.

She felt the mattress beneath her as he laid her down and pulled the covers over her and turned her electric blanket on.

"Danke..." she whispered. She felt the weight of the IV again as he connected her back up to the drip. He looked at his watch, and suddenly seemed disserted, disappointed. He looked at her briefly, before his hand, very sluggishly and reluctantly reached for the painkillers. Was it time again? The helplessness in his eyes spilled over to her, he was sorry.

"Spí dobře." He said quietly. _"Sleep well."_

Lenobia felt a cold tingling sensation in her arm where the IV was, and knew no more. Eliás wanted to throw the bottle on the floor. It was irritating, frustrating that a silly play on words was becoming someone's life. When knowing no more meant knowing less.

* * *

The medication needed topping up every eight hours. After each administration, the patient would sleep for at least five hours. That meant that three times every day, Eliás would reintroduce himself to the German vampyres. No time did they recognise him, and Friedrich wasn't available to pull away from his classes at all hours for translation services. However, on one occasion, he had discovered that the one, Matthias, could speak some Czech. It was very disjointed however, and he could only say simple things. Lenobia and the other male, Uwe spoke none at all, and so his conversations with them were restricted to hand gestures and asking each other the way to the beach in very loud voices, so to speak, although Lenobia didn't give the same effort. Probably because she was the most severely wounded but also Eliás doubted that she could be bothered to waste her energy.

And there he was thinking about her again.

It was his job to tend to all the patients in the Infirmary, not just her. If he spent anymore time looking over his shoulder at her the nurses would start asking questions.

"Dobré odpoledne Matthias." He said, approaching the bed of the first German vampyre, "Mé jméno je Dr. Svboda."

"_Good afternoon Matthias. My name is Dr. Svboda."_

"Good afternoon..." the soldier replied in Eliás' language, his voice quiet, but not as weak as it had been, "Where am I?"

Eliás spoke slowly and clearly. "You are in the Prague House of Night. You were brought here after you were shot."

He looked confused. "This I no remember..." he said, "You sure?"

He nodded. "Positive."

The vampyre sighed with frustration, but also in defeat. "Damn it."

"How are you feeling?"

"Strange..." he said, "How long I be here?"

"You have been here for three weeks now."

"I sleep three weeks here?"

"No, you have woken since then. It's the painkillers, the medicines, they have amnesic side-effects." He explained. Matthias had asked him this every day for those three weeks. Every day he asked where he was, who Eliás was. It would have been annoying if it hadn't been so sad. And he knew what he would say next too.

"And Uwe and Lenobia, you find them too?"

He nodded. "Uwe and Lenobia are here too. Both are alive, if only just."

"Good..." he nodded, "There were humans with us too..."

"They are being taken care of by the human medical services, I don't know about them unfortunately."

At that moment, Veronika burst through the doors, sprinting up the ward. "Dr Svboda!!!" she hissed, "There's a German Captain at the gate!!! With the same piping colour as hers!!!" she pointed to Lenobia, "We have to move them, now!!!"

"Why would he come up here???"

"How the Hell should I know???!!! Just help me with these drips!!!"

Eliás looked around him for places they could hide three beds. "Put them in the isolation room no one will go in there!!!!" he said, kicking the holding brakes off the wheels at the foot of each bedpost and holding the drip steady as he and Veronika pushed Matthias' bed into the tiny isolation ward. "We'll tell them we've got a really nasty case of TB!" It was too small, only meant for two occupants, but somehow, he and Veronika managed to stuff the three patients in one by one. The door was completely opaque, the little plaque reading 'Isolation' deterrent enough for anyone who couldn't see inside.

She opened the door and pulled the last bed through. "It's only the two, the captain and a private. All the way from Berlin! _Berlin_!!!"

"Why would Adéla even let them in???"

"Because she wants to prove to them, on an occasion when there aren't too many of them, that we have nothing to hide."

He threw a frantic glance back at the isolation ward. "Nazis knock on the doors every day and she has to pick now???"

Veronika took a sneaky look around the door. "Act normal." She said, "Here they come!"

"_What_???" Eliás hissed, before burying his nose in another patient's chart at lightning speed as the doors opened again.

Adéla entered first, ever gracious, her long silver hair like a train behind her, her head high, followed by two men. The one was rather short, had muddy brown hair and wore the uniform of a private. The other was tall and elegant, about his own height, his stride long and confident. He was extremely young to be a captain... As soon as he entered, a breath of cold air swept over them. He was as fair as Hitler could have possibly wished for, his skin pale but not sickly. His face was handsome, but hard. Eliás got the vibe that this man was dangerous, like you would fear for your life if caught out of order, and actually had to remind himself who the more powerful vampyre was.

"Dr. Svboda." Said Adéla as she approached up the ward, "This is Private Kreutzer and Captain Engelheimer, they have requested an audience you."

Captain Engelheimer?

That was Lenobia's rank, and name. Eliás noticed that the men were missing something – Marks. They were humans. Was he her consort, or something like that?

The Captain spoke some sharp words in German, and the Private stood forward. "The lightning vampyre. It is a pleasure to make you acquaintance Dr. Svboda." He said. His Czech was good, but he spoke in a very automatic way. It didn't take a genius to work out that he was just a translator.

He looked at the taller, fierce man. "Likewise, Captain." He said, the sarcasm subtle. The Private translated.

"Doctor, my intelligence has informed me that three of my regiment have fallen into your hands after an incident in Munich." Said the Captain, his face looking furious as he said it, his glare frightening, "I wish to see them."

Eliás widened his eyes as if it was news to him. "I'm afraid your intelligence must be mistaken Captain, we have not treated any German soldiers in months."

The Captain looked around himself suspiciously, almost as if he were smelling the air for them. Eliás' eyes flashed to the revolver at his waist. "I don't believe you." He said, his eyes burning holes in Eliás' own.

He feigned confusion. "Then I am afraid I cannot be of any further use to you." He said.

Captain Engelheimer smirked, and promptly removed his hat from his head. Pulling his glove off his hand, he placed his thumb over his forehead and wiped downwards. Moving his hand, he revealed a filled-in crescent moon on his brow beneath smeared make-up. He looked around at the private, who did the same, and then to Adéla, before putting his hat back on and covering it again. So they were vampyres. He must be Lenobia's mate. Alright, he was a vampyre, that didn't mean he wasn't a Nazi. Eliás still trod carefully.

"Alright. But I still no nothing of whom you speak." Now that needed two translations. One into German, and another into common sense. It meant 'prove you're on our side'.

The Captain looked around again and seemed to decide it was safe. "My three troops were injured in Resistance work. This is the closest vampyre hospital behind Allied lines. I have been circulating the rumours of their deaths but I have to be seen to be checking, just in case some nifty resistance blighters picked them up."

Eliás looked warily to Adéla, who nodded. "Fine." He said, reaching for the keys attached to a loop on the waist of his lab-tunic and walking towards the isolation ward. The Captain and the Private followed him, while Adéla remained where she was.

Slotting the key into the lock, he twisted it and jerked the door open. They did not seemed impressed with the way in which they had been packed into the tiny room. "We were told that German officers from the same regiment were approaching, what were we supposed to do?"

"Pull them out when I wasn't looking, perhaps?"

Eliás shot an annoyed glance over his shoulder at the captain as he pushed past him, and looking over his men, and woman, with hard eyes. Treading through what little space around the beds there was, he made his way over to Lenobia's bed, wrapped her hand in his, leaning over her protectively. She stirred a little, and squeezed his hand.

"_Doktor...?_" she murmured.

The captain's eyes narrowed to slits, his pupils looking at Eliás out of the corners of his eyes. "Lenobia? Ich bin's Erich." _"Lenobia? It's Erich."_

"Erich, was haste denn hier verlor'n?"

"_Erich, what are you doing here?" Literally: "What did you lose here?"_

"Anscheinend dich. Ich hab mich oft gefragt wo genau du denn so lange warst."

"_You, apparently. I've been asking myself where exactly it is you've been for so long."_

"Tut mir Leid."

"_Sorry."_

"Mir auch. Ich mach mir doch Sorgen um dich."

"_Me too. I'm worried about you."_

"Musst du nicht, du sollst doch wütend sein! Ich bin durchgefall'n! Ich bin schuld dass die Kinder nicht rausgekommen sind!!"

"_You don't have to, you should be angry! I failed! It's my fault the children didn't get out!!!"_

"Ist es nicht. Mehr hättest du nicht tun können."

"_It's not. You couldn't have done more."_

"Lügner."

"_Liar."_

The captain shot another look around again. "Kümmern sie sich gut um dich?" _"Are they taking good care of you?"_

"Ja... der Doktor ist stundenlang da."

"_Yes... the doctor's always there."_

Eliás watched them conversing in what he was sure was gibberish. She sure could ramble for someone with critical injuries. He seemed extremely protective of her. Snapping his fingers, he called the translator to his side and spoke.

"Thank you for tending to my sister." He said sternly.

His sister?

Come to think of it, there was a certain resemblance. Eliás wanted to slap himself around the face. "You're very welcome."

"I have been trying to ensure them safe passage back to Germany..." he said, "But it's impossible. Even with the armies in retreat. Until Germany agrees to unconditional surrender on all fronts, the War isn't over, which will be determined on the 1st May, Kanzler Göbbels is planning to send a General to negotiate a surrender of Berlin with Soviet General Chuikov, but it's unlikely he will be authorised to make an unconditional one."

"So they're still no nearer to an agreement."

"Sadly not. And it's likely that Prague will be one of the last cities to be liberated, although the human Czech resistance fighters are planning an uprising in preparation for the arrival of the Soviet Army."

Eliás closed his eyes and shook his head. "And pray, when will that be?"

"Any day now. Kanzler Göbbels is at the end of his tether. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if he chose the same way out as Hitler. Regardless, I can't move them out until Berlin surrenders, otherwise they'll face a firing squad as soon as they step onto German soil."

"We figured as much."

"And it'll be risky even after that, but I just want them out of here."

"They cannot be moved until their health is good enough."

The captain looked down at his sister. "She knows who to contact." He said, sighing, "I've heard what the palliative drug does. There is little point in me staying."

"Maybe write to her. If it comes through the resistance people."

He met Eliás gaze. "Maybe." He said, turning his head then to Adéla, "Do you give me your solemn word that you will do all in your power to aid their recovery?"

Both nodded. "Absolutely." Said Adéla.

* * *

**R&R!**


	8. Depolarisation

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Next one!**

* * *

"He's done it."

Edita the S&R Mistress marched into the staff room, a determined look on her normally tranquil face and slammed the newspaper down on the coffee table, before plopping herself into an armchair. All of them were seated in their chairs, Anděl and Lýdie curled up next to each other on the sofa, Věra wiping her eyes after yet another sleepless night, courtesy of the new wailing fledgling and essay marking. Serafina, the Italian professor of Music, who was rarely seen outside of her music rooms, for the Goddess had blessed her with an incredible singing voice, sat closest to the roaring fire, its warmth lighting up her eyes as she tweaked notes on a stave, humming the melody occasionally to herself as her pen flitted across the page. Eliás, having been given a small break from the Infirmary, sat reading, a good novel that Antonie had given to him as a birthday present in 1913. It was the fifth time he had read over the two year span.

"Who's done what?" asked Věra tiredly, nursing a cup of tea and a headache.

"Joseph Göbbels, the Reich Kanzler." She said, "Committed suicide. He and his wife had their children killed too, ordered a doctor to inject them with morphine and then administer cyanide. Then she took poison and he shot himself. The Battle of Berlin ended the next day."

"Captain Engelheimer was right." Said Eliás, picking up the newspaper and inspecting the front page, although he was hardly surprised at its contents, "He thought he might knock himself off. I find it fascinating how some branches of humanity can murder their own offspring."

Children were such wondrous things. An adult might give up their life for that belonging to a child any day, even if that child wasn't theirs. And yet some people would treat their greyhounds better. He folded up the newspaper and passed it back to Edita. Maybe it was for the survival of the race that vampyres could not bear children...

"That's not all. It says that a pacifist anti-Nazi organisation was discovered within the halls of the University of Munich a few days ago. The White Rose. The leaders, a brother and a sister, were beheaded the same day."

There was a silence. It was so predictable that Eliás almost wanted to make a witty comment about it. So much for hope. "How are the German officers?" said Věra.

"Better." Replied Eliás, looking up from the pages of his book, "The two men are doing well, the woman is doing well too but she did suffer worse wounds than the other two. We'll still be feeding them through tubes for a time yet."

Serafina looked up from her composure, "Oh, did Adéla mention that she was expecting a visitor this evening?" she asked.

Eliás looked distinctly unimpressed. "It'd better not be another German officer!"

"Indeed." Serafina looked once more to her music, "Apparently it was incredibly short notice, I was of the impression that Adéla had been informed of the arrival as opposed to having sanctioned it."

"Who is it?" asked Anděl.

"High Priestess Valentina of St. Petersburg. She who is so influential as to travel through the continent without escort and drop in on Adéla unannounced during a war between soviets and German occupants."

Eliás turned a page. "Maybe she stares at them and they turn to stone." He said monotonously.

"I believe she holds two affinities, the one is premonition, the other is empathy, but they seemed to work together, or so I've heard." Said Věra, "Although Eliás is quite right, if only looks could freeze a lake."

"What is her business here?"

"She's Russian..." said Edita dismissively, "They're taking over the world these days."

Eliás still didn't look up. "Including here."

"Maybe she wishes to be here for the arrival of the Soviet Army."

"How likely is that?" said Serafina, "_I _don't want to be here for the arrival of the Soviet Army."

There was a knock on the door. Věra shouted 'come in', and a Fourth Former poked her head around the door. "Excuse me, Dr. Svboda..." she said, "Veronika was looking for you, apparently it's urgent."

"Thank you." He said, forcing himself up out of his chair and heading for the door.

* * *

"I've lost an inmate."

"Modern medical care at its absolute best."

Veronika gave him an annoyed look. "Just give me a minute while get my tickly feather duster." She said sardonically, before throwing him a glare. "Just help me find her."

"Well, let us hope she hasn't made a break for the window."

Veronika snorted. "This is ridiculous. She's barely able to walk, she can't have gone far. I get the impression she isn't the hospital-bed-potato type."

He smirked slightly with his usual charm. "Really?"

"You take the left, I'll take the right." She said, "And just pray that some fledgling hasn't seen her."

Oh Goddess, what if some fledgling had seen her? You weren't supposed to harbour enemy soldiers in schools! Yes she was a rogue, she was on their side, but the fledglings wouldn't know that. She was proving to be the strangest patient he had ever seen. This was the kind of thing that made him want to go back to working with micromolecules.

And yet he secretly hoped that he would be the one to find her. Each corner that he turned, he mentally prepared himself to see her there, maybe lying on the floor, having fallen, or maybe clinging onto the wall to prevent herself from falling. Why did she do this to herself? Hurrying his strides, he rounded another corner, beginning to worry.

Then, there, just at the end of the hall, at the window, stood a slim female figure with long blonde hair. She was leaning against the wall behind the curtain, her hands linked in front of her calmly, seemingly gazing out of the huge window before her. Eliás carelessly allowed his eyes to work down her body as he walked, but then blinked again and forced them back up, disgusted with himself. She was injured, she could barely even walk, she was a heroine of the resistance, how _dare_ he look at her like a piece of meat? He had always believed himself to be above Neanderthal folly. Whilst he felt sexual desires, even caring to admit that when his guard was down, she was very much a reminder that he _was_ a heterosexual hot-blooded male, like a switch flicking in his head, he refused to allow them to control him like they would an animal; over time suppressing them to the back of his head had become easy. His mind was far more powerful than his body, and that was the way it had always been, hence he was a mediocre warrior but an excellent academic.

"Lenobia?" he said as he reached her, his voice echoing off the walls.

She looked around over her shoulder at him, recognition in her eyes. "Doktor?"

He smiled. The word came before the recognition in her eyes, she remembered the sound of his voice, but not what it had said to her before. "Dr. Svboda, yes." He said, "What are you doing?"

She turned her head back to what she had been looking out before. Following her gaze out of the window, he saw that this window overlooked the Riding School. The stables were bustling even now with stable girls and lads mucking out, tossing straw and pushing wheelbarrows, some were washing horses down and some were tacking up. It was six o' clock in the morning, the birds were singing, the pre-sunrise sky was a beautiful periwinkle blue. The lessons for the morning were over, and Friedrich, having finished teaching, was clearly visible in the outdoor manège, atop his favourite liver-chestnut horse. If it had anything to do with a horse, Friedrich could do it, any discipline he would ride, except maybe racing as he was rather too tall, eventing, show-jumping, hunting, anything. He was excellent at all of them, but above all, Friedrich was a master of dressage. The very finest art, the beauty, harmony and cadence were thrilling; the sense of achievement on accomplishing them was electrifying.

Eliás watched Lenobia's grey eyes light up as Friedrich rode a transition from passage, to piaffe, and them to passage again, muttering under her breath what sounded like numbers counting the number of stride the horses trotted on the spot. She seemed to be satisfied with his performance, giving a small longing smile.

"Werde ich je sowas wieder tun?" _"Will I ever do anything like that again?" _she muttered, her eyes as close to tears as they had been since she had had thirty odd bullets in her. She was a Cavalry Mistress, her affinity lay with horses, as was obvious from her Mark. Horses must be her life. And he had doubted whether she would walk again, how likely was it that she would ride?

That was truly sad. Repressing affinities was not good for you. Eliás had tried to suppress his powers at first, and quickly discovered that it was like trying to hold your breath. It was impossible. And even if her affinity had nothing to do with it, he imagined that it would be like holding her breath for her all the same.

He leant against the opposite side of the window, and watched with her. She put her hand up to the glass, palm flat, the glass misting around it. She left it there for a moment, before slowly letting it slide, her skin making a wiping sound against the glass. Her hand fell to her side again, and she played with her fingers silently. He would love so much to tell her that she would without a doubt ride again. But then would it be a lie? He didn't doubt her determination to try, but not even determination could overcome disability. And how would he tell her anyway?

"Wann darf ich draussen geh'n?" she asked, bit this time the question was directed at him.

"_When will I be allowed to go outside?"_

"Sorry." He said, and used the only three words of German that Friedrich had taught him for this very purpose. "Ich verstehe nicht." _"I don't understand."_

She seemed to accept this information, at the very least understand it, and pulled her long hair over her shoulder, her eyes still following the horse and its rider. He noted that her legs were still, but he knew that it was causing her quite a lot of pain to stand; hence she was leaning against the wall, instead of standing up straight, as he was sure was much a part of German etiquette.

They watched right until Friedrich dismounted from the horse, running up his stirrups and slacking the girth, before removing the tack and sponging the sweating animal down. Lenobia gave another small smile.

"Schön." She said, nodding slowly to herself, "Sehr schön."

Eliás looked around at her. "I think you should come back to the Infirmary." He said suggestively. Holding out his hand, in an 'after you' style, he directed it towards the Infirmary.

She took one last glance out the window, before, with difficulty, pushing her weight onto her two legs and steadying herself with her hand on the wall, her hair falling over her shoulders. He daren't take a step towards her and offer her his arm. For while over half of her vital organs had been hit, her right fist had survived miraculously. She made eye-contact with him for a moment, as if to say 'fine then', before taking slow, yet steady steps alongside him. She looked completely out of place, he in neatly pressed black trousers and a spotless white lab-tunic and she in a crumpled dingy hospital nightgown and a pair of slippers. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye again, her jaw was set, her eyes hard and she was biting her lip. He looked at his watch – she was due a shot of painkillers. Holding the Infirmary door open for her, she passed under his arm, he was sure that she shuddered as she brushed his sleeve. She pinched her lips together as she stopped, and he let the door fall shut behind them. He saw her arm cover her abdomen and her eyes squeeze shut, her face going even paler than it usually was.

"Lenobia?" he asked, putting a hand on each arm from behind her, but it was like she slipped through his light grip, falling to the floor where she wretched and vomited.

What came up was only bile, as she had been on a drip for weeks, but the muscular flexion of wretching was straining all of the stitches in those bullet holes in her, in both muscle and organ. Her one hand held her long hair out of the way, the other clamped over her stomach as if to stop the contents spilling out from those bullet holes.

"Veronika!" Eliás shouted, dropping down beside her as she spat out the foul taste in her mouth.

Veronika appeared from the nurses' station and put her hand to her mouth. "Oh good Goddess..." she said, "I think you found her."

"Get someone to clean this up." He said, putting her arm around his neck and sliding his arm under her knees again so as to pick her up. He was angry, with himself, with Veronika, they knew she might try to do something like this, what did they have to tie her down to the bed now, like a madwoman? As he carried her, he was sure that she was even lighter than she had been before. Fragile, more so than she would ever want to be, but it was part of the healing process. Veronika pulled back the bed covers, and he laid her down gently, connecting her back up to the drip and replacing the blankets over her. He placed his hand over her forehead, and began to numb the pain for her again, like he had on the day she was admitted.

Lenobia couldn't explain how good numbness felt. Her entire front went from stabbing agony to a mild tingle, and then to nothing. This man whose voice she knew, she had no idea how he could stop the pain, but that he could and did brought her more relief than the drug. His small concentrated frown, his cool palm. He was such a beautiful vampyre, had such presence, but also the air that either he know it or didn't care about it. Either way, he was nice to look at, and that was the extent to which she could enjoy his company, when every time she woke up she didn't know anyone, not even him. Not by sight at least. It annoyed her, but even his powers could sooth that. Frightening, really.

"She's due another dose of meds." Said Veronika, casting an eye over her chart.

"Uh..." he said, then pausing for a moment, "Not just yet I need to ask her a few things."

She flipped the chart shut. "Good luck." She said, before walking away to the other end of the ward.

"Uwe?"

The man in the next bed up stirred. "Was?" he asked, wiping his eyes.

"I have a few questions to ask Lenobia."

He inhaled sharply. "Good luck."

"Will you translate?"

He shifted himself to that he was sitting up a little. "I try." He said.

He looked back to Lenobia. "Are you trying to worsen your condition?" he asked, and waited while Uwe responded.

"Forgive me for wanting a change of scenery." She answered. "I'm injured, not ill."

"You could make yourself ill. Your wounds are still healing, an infection in one of those holes will go straight to your vital organs and kill you."

"Unlikely in a spic and span place like this."

"I'm sorry." He said, "But the stiller you stay the quicker you will heal."

"Yet pain is good for the mind." She said, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"What doesn't kill you is a godsend."

He felt her brow crease below his palm. "How do you do that?"

"I can control electric fields, your neurones work via depolarisation, I can counteract the effect. The pain is still there, but you just can't feel it."

"What else can you do then?"

He sighed. "I can stimulate nerves as well as relaxing them, so I can cause pain, as well as numb it. I can make you to lose consciousness, I can make you feel things that aren't there, I can slow or quicken your heartbeat, I can telekinetically move anything that will conduct electricity, and of course I can all out electrocute you."

"I knew the name was familiar." She said, "You're the lightning vampyre aren't you?"

Ah, she had asked that before. "I have been called that before, yes." He said, averting his attention to the drip. "And pray with what miracles do you enlighten the world?"

"Oh." She said, chuckling, "I, 'speak' horse."

"That's an interesting one."

"It's more an understanding than a language." She said, "But I hate it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Humans understand their animals perfectly well enough." She said, "It's useless, gives no battle advantage, and gets me disqualified from most competitive spheres."

"That's a shame."

"It's a pain." She said, "I've had worse. But I've got to get outside again."

"You can wonder around in here all you like." He said, gesturing to the ward, "But I'm going to make this simple." he paused, "If you walk out of here again you will be restrained." She looked extremely offended. "I am sorry." He emphasised, "Oh God I'm such an imbecile..."

"Quite the opposite, from what I've heard." She commented.

"You won't remember this anyway. But I promise you. As soon as you are well enough you shall go outside."

She raised an eyebrow. "You promise do you?"

He raised his own. "I promise."

* * *

**R&R!**


	9. Time Bomb

**_The Lightning Vampyre_**

* * *

**Me: Another one, shorter this time.**

**To TeaTime: Thanks, I try to be as historically accurate as possible, Wikipedia has got me through most of the dates lol. Ah das Abi, ich weiss schon was du meinst, das musste ich letztes Jahr, ich hab Bio Chemie und Deutsch gemacht. **

* * *

_5th May 1945_

* * *

The alarm clock sounded.

Eliás very nearly fell out of bed, his left heel hitting the carpet and sending jarring sensations up his leg as his right hand grappled for the right hand side of the mattress to take the pressure off his heel. His right leg was still wrapped in duvet so tightly he was sure it was cutting off the circulation somewhere, while his left hand thudded down on the alarm clock. Sweat was dripping from him and sticking him to the sheets, while his breath came hard and fast. He had never been in such a state of alertness and a state of barely-awake-ness before.

Running a hand through his hair, he took deep gulps of air and registered the shock running through him, his stomach tied in a knot.

He wiped his eyes. It was alright, it was normal, but never before had he had a dream that, what was the word? Graphic.

Good God was he that desperate? He hadn't thought so, and who doesn't have sex dreams? It was just how real it had been that disturbed him.

He had been in the Infirmary, so lifelike he had almost been conned into thinking he was awake. Of course, it was a dream, he had thought he was awake, but still... The Infirmary was completely empty, desolate, save for one person. He had a task. And that task was to change the dressings on Lenobia's wounds. Of course, due to their locations that was a task always carried out by female staff, but in this dream him doing it seemed as normal as any other task he might have had to perform there. It was just another job to do. Lenobia did not seem at all bothered that he had to change the dressings, and in abnormal mellowness, allowed him to without fuss. Another huge discrepancy, she recognised him. She knew who he was before he spoke, even though she was still connected to the drip. She greeted him pleasantly, even, for all the German he understood, it sounded pleasant anyway. She unbuttoned her nightgown from the abdomen to just above her ribcage, revealing the gauze taped to her. Putting on rubber gloves, he pulled back the surgical tape on the first one. The gauze itself was reddish on the underside where it had absorbed blood, but the skin beneath it wasn't even so much as scarred. Completely healed, like she had never been shot. He looked at it, and then back at her. She smiled brightly, while he pulled the rest off. Nothing. Not a single wound was even there. He had watched, astounded. How?

And that was when she addressed him in Czech. This was getting weirder and weirder, as he asked himself out loud how this could happen.

"You did it." she said simply, "You healed me."

"But it's impossible!"

It was. There should at least be scar tissue. She pulled the needles out of her hand, disconnecting herself from the IV. "You erased the pain."

It was the first time he had seen her smiling, more than just a fleeting smile, she was beaming. He was struck by a hot wave of lust at how beautiful she was. It must have been radiating from him, because she leant forward and kissed him, sliding her arms around him and pulling him down.

The rest wasn't worth thinking about.

He must have done everything he had ever heard of or that his mind could come up with. Even awake his mind overloaded when he remembered holding her, being inside her, making her scream. Recalling now, they were guilty pleasures now, extreme pleasures that he had almost forgotten in these recent years. Relaxing for a moment, he could still feel her breasts beneath his hands, her body writhe beneath his. And without on drop of blood. His muscles felt supple and warm, but also tired, it was that afterward satisfying exhaustion.

Clearly, she was more of a reminder that he was a heterosexual hot-blooded male than he thought...

And on a hospital bed too...

Untwisting the sheets from around him, he pushed himself onto his feet and into the ensuite, turning on the shower and peeling his pyjamas from his skin. He stepped into the stream of warm water, letting it run over his hair, his face, keeping his mouth open a little so that he could breathe. As the salty smell of sweat began to fade away, washed down the plughole, his mind was already reverting to its overly busy self. It was just a dream. A rather pleasant dream, but why had he had it? And how he was ever going to make eye-contact with her today?

* * *

Finally clean enough to be presentable, Eliás entered the Dining Hall and came face to face with Friedrich, who at this time in the evening already smelled faintly of horse.

"Evening." He said, looking up the table to see an empty set of chairs, "Where is everyone?"

"Valentina is here." Friedrich replied.

"Ah so Medusa has arrived." He said.

"Very late, well into the afternoon. Adéla had given up waiting for her and gone to bed by the time her warriors came a knocking on the gates."

"I thought Serafina said she didn't travel with warriors."

"She didn't, they met her here, I can only presume they came with the other human regiments. I was up first so Adéla asked me to stay here and redirect everyone as necessary until I can find a Sixth Former to do the job for me. She's had a dining room prepared for all of us in the nights that Valentina is here, it's the second one on the first floor, opposite the large drawing room, any business she has to discuss cannot be overheard by the fledglings."

Entering the freshly laid out dining room was like a little like entering a fridge.

Even though the Russian High Priestess was well-respected, but she was severe. Her dead-straight light blond hair pulled so tightly in a ponytail that it must have been giving her a headache, her entire face although young was made of angles, her eyes large but somehow desolate, she was as thin as a rake. Adéla, a contrast in every single way known to man, was sitting opposite her, with the other professors sitting, more quietly than usual he noted, at the table too.

Valentina's head turned to him as soon as she heard the doorknob move. She wore an authoritive yet charming smile on her face, while Adéla looked thoroughly pleased to see him.

"Eliás, good evening, do have a seat." She said, "This is High Priestess Valentina of St. Petersburg."

"It's an honour to meet you." He said, in an enthusiasm that was just forced enough to be noticeable as he took his place at the table.

"And you." She said, looking at him for a moment with a confirmed smirk on her face. "You are just as I saw."

It was common knowledge that, whilst Valentina held two affinities and for the most part they acted as one entity, they were quite capable of functioning alone, and Eliás knew from that expression that she already knew far more about him than he would have liked.

"Right. Down to business then." Said Adéla, slapping her hands together, "Valentina would like to impart as to why she dropped in on us at such short notice that we have barely had time to polish our silverware."

"Yes..." said Valentina, putting down her glass of wine, "Indeed I do apologise for my rude interjection but considering the circumstances I think it best that I share my information. As you know Soviet forces are making their way here from the border, in a little movement that has become lovingly known as the Prague Offensive. Of course the KCB are having a party, please excuse the pun, but it is vital that people are discouraged from voting them in in next year's election."

"I'm afraid that is beyond our control." Said Adéla.

"Stalin has murdered more people than Hitler." Said Valentina, the smallest hint of emotion apparent behind her facade, "If this country votes in a communist government then they will never be shot of it. St. Petersburg has been in ruins since 1918."

"I heard there were stories about one of the Tsar's daughters surviving." Said Lýdie, "Do they bear any truth?"

Valentina looked doubtful, but Eliás was sure that she knew more about that than she let on. "I am aware of the stories in the media, but whether or not a Grand Duchess did survive, she is in no position to re-establish the throne. We cannot source enough blood, as everything is rationed. We can't even source enough food to feed ourselves, and I am sure that it is deliberate. I do not want the same fate to befall you."

So that was why she was so thin. He had thought it was just a part of her image, but she actually had nothing to live on...

"Well a street wretch could have told me that, Valentina." Said Adéla, earning a few smiles from around the table.

"I agree Adéla. But here is the vital reason." She said, "We are in the midst of an arms race. The Germans are fast running out and the race is on to see who will take power in Europe after they fall."

"Yes?"

"You will have noticed that Russia and America have already commissioned scientists to build nuclear arms, for Hiroshima or Nagasaki if my visions do not deceive me. But it's not the only arms race going on here. The humans know how powerful vampyres are. Tsk, to them we are nothing more than atomic bombs, and they're looking for 'talent' elsewhere." She looked dead on at Eliás, "And guess who they've got their eye on in poor little Czechoslovakia."

* * *

So that was it. He was a pawn in the grand design of people who he had never even heard of, let alone met, nor would he ever want to meet them. Quite how they expected to 'recruit' him when he had been overtly against the German Occupation astounded him. It would be any day that soviet soldiers would be knocking on the doors. How were any of them brave enough to approach someone who had the ability to fry them in seconds? He supposed it must be common practice amongst these high-ranking generals. He briefly wondered how they would go about doing it – would they offer him vast sums of money, or would they threaten him with some evil they would unleash upon the country if he refused?

The Infirmary had been quiet that evening, but of course all good things come to an end. Most of the patients were sleeping when Lýdie's niece Katja battered down the door. They were still here from that night two years ago, Díla now fifteen, and Katja now ten. Díla, albeit not a fledgling, had started attending classes with the current Third Form, he suspected simply for something to do, she was given permission to forego subjects such as Vamp Sociology and S&R, but she still thrived upon Music, Literature, Fencing and ES. Without a doubt she was the first human to attend a House of Night, of which she was extremely proud, and had become good friends with a little group of Third Formers, and now spent most if not all of her spare time with them. Katja, still a little young for that, joined in too, but she was still very much Lýdie's little niece, and, missing Díla's company, spent a lot of time with either herself or Anděl. It was the first time that either of the girls had come down here since they arrived here.

"Katja, what are you doing down here?"

"Auntie Lýdie said I could come and help you." Said the girl.

"She did, did she?" he replied. The last thing he would ever do was allow a ten year-old into the dispensary or to handle the equipment. "Well, you can talk to some of the patients, some of them are quite lonely in here."

"Can I talk to the German people?"

"I'm afraid they won't understand you very well." He said.

"Yes they will." She said, "I know German."

He raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"They forced us to speak it in school..." she said, "I didn't like it."

Of course. The schools were occupied too and German was instated as the official language back in 1939. And the optimum age for picking up new languages was before twelve.

"Okay." He said, indicating to the three beds they were in, "Go and chat to them."

Katja grinned and bounded off to sit with Uwe, her young laughter shaking him out of his doze. Eliás wanted to chuckle. Maybe she would teach him to speak Czech properly. He felt a pang of worry. Would they try and blackmail him into joining them? Threaten to hurt someone like her, perhaps? What would he do? Goddess forbid that he would ever have to prepare himself for something like that. His mind flitted around – had the Nazis known back then that they were gassing a powerful telepath? Still that tugging connection in the back of his head making him unable to forget her. He snorted to himself. First they wanted to destroy people, and then they wanted to use them. The soviets were coming, and were likely to win this battle. He closed his eyes – any day now these corridors were going to be strewn with bodies of wounded soldiers because there was nowhere else for them to be treated. It had been announced on the radio often by the SS Senior Group Leader Karl Hermann Frank that he would drown any uprising in Prague in a sea of blood, with a population that was ready to be liberated.

People were going to die. Of course they were, it was a war, but that didn't make anyone feel any better about it. Although there was better news on the Eastern front – Emanuel Moravec, a Czech politician who had become a collaborator of the Nazis and as the propaganda minister, he persuaded Czechs to be loyal to Nazi Germany. The news of his suicide had been on the front page that evening. Apparently he feared being executed for treason. Eliás rolled his eyes. Good riddance.

"Would you keep an eye on her?" he asked Veronika as she went past, turning his head to where Katja was chatting to the Germans.

"Do I look like a babysitter to you?"

"I won't answer that."

"Excuse me?"

Both turned to see Valentina standing just inside the door, Medusa herself.

"Adéla told me I might find you here." She said, stepping forwards and rubbing her palms together gingerly.

"It depends who is looking." He said dryly.

"I do not mean to bring hostility." She said.

"We fight a war for six years and now we discover that we were better off with the Germans all along." He said sarcastically.

"It may seem so."

"Contrary to popular opinion, I am not something they have engineered in a laboratory."

"You have your persuasions."

"So do all other atomic bombs." He said, "Nazis have been sending me letters for years regarding offers to join their experimentation teams."

"They were after your knowledge, the Soviets are after your power."

"These days I find the two to be very much the same thing."

"Nonetheless."

"You can tell them for me that they buried their precious atomic bomb when they buried this country."

"They want to control it, they won't bury it."

"Are you so sure?" he raised an eyebrow, "Because I am not."

* * *

**R&R!**


	10. Ústí

**_The Lightning Vampyre_**

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**Me: The events here are what happened in the ****July 1945 Ústí Massacre of Germans in the Sudetenland. This is a prety quick chapter, sorry haha but a very significant one.**

* * *

_31st July 1945_

* * *

The War had ended.

Armistice on the Eastern Front.

It still sounded odd to the ears. Eliás wasn't sure he could keep count of the hours he spent in the Infirmary looking after wounded soldiers. The hospitals had overrun with injuries and bodies even littered their hallways. What were the vampyres to do? Watch while their human brothers died? The War was over, but the injuries persisted. The House of Night had now been entirely opened up as a human hospital for months, with doctors from all over the world, Russians, Poles, Americans, even doctors from English colonies, filling in for the shortage of medical personnel. Lenobia and the other German vampyre soldiers had been transferred to a room in the professors' building.

Today was an awful one. He knew it would come, but he couldn't have prepared himself for it. Today was the Czechoslovakian Government and decreed that all Germans must leave the country. Except. There were exceptions. Thank the Goddess the humans had decided that anyone with either a Czech spouse, or, those that were crucial to industry would be allowed to stay. Friedrich was, technically, crucial to the survival of the fledglings at the House of Night. The Czechoslovakian authorities had been reluctant to let him stay, however, unable to ignore the argument that Friedrich had lived in Prague and been in full charge of the King's horses for over three hundred years, they had given in and Friedrich had been given permission to stay.

The other Germans were another story. Lenobia, Matthias and Uwe, were ordered to leave, even though they faced assassination once they returned. Eliás took this with a heavy heart. They had barely healed, they were even less ready to be moved, but when they had learned of this, none of them complained. Not one. In fact, they seemed happy, happy that they were going home. Now the War was over, in most places, they would have to wear white armbands so that the whole world would know. Eliás had not been there, it had been Friedrich who had told them, but apparently, they took the armbands and put them on immediately. They had said that they were still proud to be German. Even if they were not proud of their politicians, not proud of their leaders, even if they made them sick to the core, they said they were still proud of their brave people.

Eliás braced himself as the car he was sitting in drove over a pothole, his brain tired and his body almost ready to give in. He hated long journeys, much less ones that involved goodbyes, and even less ones that involved driving to the German border. Friedrich was driving, with Matthias in the passenger seat. Uwe and Eliás sat in the back of the car, with Lenobia, being the smallest, between them. She sat back against the seat, her arms folded, and tried to sleep through the long drive on the way to the German-Czech border. Eliás couldn't relax while she was next to him, not for the entire journey, it was a weird feeling, you ache like you've run a marathon and yet you still haven't burnt off the adrenaline. Eliás opened his eyes from his doze as he felt the car turn and come to a stop.

"Why have we stopped?" he asked.

"We need fuel." Friedrich replied, "And I also think the left hind tyre is a bit flat." He muttered some words in German to the soldiers, who nodded and got out of the car with Friedrich, "You stay here and watch her, there's been some violence up here." He said, closing his door and walking off to buy the fuel, leaving Eliás and Lenobia in the car as Mattias and Uwe attended to the tyre.

Lenobia was smiling a little. "Ich will Sie danken." She said, looking up at him. "Sie sind ein gütiger Mann." She paused again, "Es tut mir echt Leid daß ich nicht länger bleibe."

_"I want to thank you... You are a kind man. I'm sorry I'm not staying longer."_

She seemed to understand the confusion written on his face, the blank look that told her he couldn't understand, even though he was really, really trying to. On seeing this, she slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently, sending shivers up his spine. Eliás turned in his seat to face her properly, before wordlessly leaning down and kissing her softly. It seemed to catch her off guard, but she eagerly returned it, it was slow, sweet, amazing. Those teenage hormones that he had suppressed for far too long were finally surfacing... Goddess how much he wanted her right then... Snippets of that dream flashed back into his head... Oh if only... He wrapped his arms around her as he ended up kissing her far more passionately than he had ever intended, and why was his tongue doing things he wasn't telling it to? His mind buzzed – she was German she was German she was German and whatever would the neighbours say? At that moment, he understood more about humanity than he ever had before. His head was reeling; surely this was the kind of thing film directors made so much money out of, realising it was too late.

There was a gunshot. Glass shattered. Eliás jumped, and pulled away as he felt Lenobia stop responding. Her eyes were wide open and bloodshot, her left hand clasped hard over the back of her neck. Then he saw the blood, thick red gushing down her shoulder soaking into her clothes and the leather car seat behind her. She heaved, and suppressed a scream, before falling forwards onto Eliás, unconscious by the time she fell into his arms. Eliás looked out through the back window, which had been blown out by a series of bullets. Pressing his hand to Lenobia's wound to try and stop the blood flow that was killing her, he lay her down across the back seats, his voice screaming as his fingers felt for a pulse at her wrist.

Friedrich was there like a shot, sprinting form the shop to and to the car in a matter of seconds. He, as a remaining German, was not required to wear a white armband, and only one shot was fired at him as he crossed to the car, which hit the concrete floor a few feet away from him. Mattias and Uwe threw themselves behind nearby cars as a shower of bullets cascaded down on them, blowing out the concrete and putting holes into everything everywhere.

"Friedrich they hit her..." Eliás said, reluctantly letting Friedrich take over Lenobia as he felt electricity flow through his body at the sheer anger he was now feeling. Were they _trying _to start another bloody war???? Getting out of the car, bloodied, Eliás focussed his will onto their firearms. One by one, the men screamed as electric charge ripped through the metal they were holding, forcing them to drop it to the ground. The guns clattered to the ground and Eliás jumped at the opportunity, the electromagnetic fields were there just as he wanted them and the guns flew away from the hands of the men and hovered in mid air, turning to face their owners. The terror on the humans' faces forced the colour out of them as they took steps back, and the floating weapons advanced.

_"You bastards...." _Eliás seethed, his anger generating sparks off his skin and electric fields around him, making anything metal shake bend and break into pieces, his only mercy going to the car, which they would need. _"How **dare **you???_"

He focussed again, and they screamed again as their muscles spasmed, they neurones on fire sending pain to their brains like someone had flayed them alive. No pleasure this time. Thirty-eight years and two doctorates later, Eliás could control his power to within the subshell energy level of an electron.

"Eliás!!!" Friedrich yelled, "We need to get her to the border!!! I can have the medics meet us there!!!"

Eliás narrowed his eyes just a fraction, and every single one of the guns broke into the very pieces they were made off, the unused bullets scattering all over the floor and turning to a black mush under the electrolysis. He had jumped into the driver seat of the car before the men could register what was happening, and drove like a bat out of hell out onto the open road. Friedrich was talking in extremely hurried German on the car's phone, stopping occasionally to tell Eliás to go right of left. Goddess how could this be happening??? After the War had ended? After they had won? Still people wanted to kill other people!!! His hands were clenched so tightly on the steering wheel that he could see the white of his knuckles through the blood that stained his skin.

The border was a mass of people clutching their belongings, queuing up at checkpoints to be filtered back into Bavaria. Children were crying with the cold of the night, mothers and fathers huddled to keep them warm with what they had. The Sudetenland was all most of them had ever known, and now they were all being forced out, regardless of what their individual sins were, a bright white armband on each and every one of them, like a stamp across their foreheads branding them hell spawn. Many vampyres often asked themselves why did humans do this to each other? Eliás simply asked why people did this to each other? Even the ever-perfect vampyres were capable of similar feats, and not ever, not even since Marking had he considered himself another

Species. You can't go from being a human to not being a human overnight, no matter how the High Priestesses put it. The Change was a four year one, and it was only a physical change instigated by hormones, it was really no different to human puberty. It didn't make vampyres feral or animals. Sadly, it didn't make humans any smarter either. The sight before him, what had caused the sight before him, the sight behind him too, all of it just reassured Eliás in his hypothesis that the sooner these pathetic races died out, the better.

Eliás ignored the shouting officers telling him to stop and unload the car – he kept going straight on, flooring the accelerator, ploughing across to the front of the borderline where he saw flashing lights and an ambulance on the other side. As soon as he pulled the car to a halt, German officers were pulling the car doors open. Eliás panicked and resisted as they reached in and tried to force him out, electrifying his skin and causing the officers to howl in pain as they touched him. Friedrich tried desperately to explain, and Eliás looked in something which was a cross between horror and relief as another German officer from the other side reached into the car and took out the unconscious Lenobia in his arms. More men of both German and Czech armies swooned like bees to honey, ordering for Mattias and Uwe to be let free, but to hold Friedrich and Eliás back. Eliás watched with a beating heart as they carried Lenobia to the ambulance on German soil.

"Will she be alright???" he asked the officers, who were still reluctant to touch him for fear of electrocution but were still happy to point their guns at him. Fools.

One German looked at him like he was a piece of dirt. "She be fine." he said unsympathetically in broken Czech, before turning away and following the others away from the Czech line.

"Look after her." Said Eliás firmly, looking the soldier right in the eye. If only looks could electrify souls. The soldier threw him a dirty look from over his shoulder, and went.

She was gone.

Eliás completely zoned out. All he could feel was Friedrich's hand on his shoulder. The worst of all, it wasn't necessarily be that she was gone, it was that, with a bullet in her spine, a bullet in her spine that had in all probability been meant for him, _him_, they would be using equally strong drugs as before to numb her pain, drugs that would more than probably erase all traces of him from her memory.

* * *

**R&R**!


	11. Until we meet again

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Sorry, long time no post, but here's the next chapter. Quite different to the last one, where we see Eliás lose his cool. What I'm trying to draw on here and definitely in later chapters is the contrast between what people portray and what they actually think and feel. Eliás portrays himself very differently to what's going on inside, and that last chapter and this one are two of the few occasions that what he acts like and what he feels correlate. **

**Thank you for the reviews guys, they mean a lot to me! Enjoy!**

* * *

"I wonder if she's alright?"

It was six in the evening now. Rain was beating down on the castle hard, huge great raindrops hitting the windows so hard it was surprising they didn't shatter. It wasn't doing anything for the ringing in Eliás' ears, having got used to the roar of the car's engine as he took it in turns with Friedrich to drive the long journey back to Prague. Finally he was allowed to rest, his body collapsing onto the soft furniture of the teacher's lounge in exhaustion, but his mind unable to so much as drop its guard. He lay there motionless as Friedrich made them coffee.

The Horse Master sat down in the chair next to him and passed him a mug silently. Eliás raised his coffee to his lips, feeling disappointed when it didn't quite bring the relief he expected it to.

"She will be. The other two as well." Said Friedrich reassuringly, before putting his hand on the younger vampyre's shoulder. "My boy..." he said, "You need to trust them."

"I don't trust other people, not to do my job, not without knowing them or their credibility."

"I'm sorry Eliás." He said, his voice soothing the tension from the young man, just like a father's would.

Eliás snorted. "Friedrich!"

"And I wasn't meddling in your head, before you say it." he said, "I actually saw you through the shop window."

"I was going to ask you if it was that obvious."

"Even if I hadn't. I've walked this earth for the past four-hundred years Eliás, you can't fool me. Besides, I've never seen you so angry. You must be a natural redhead after all."

"You're a wise vampyre Friedrich."

"She was fond of you too." Friedrich added, tilting his head slightly so that he could see the shine appear in Eliás' grey eyes. When he didn't answer, Friedrich continued, "She didn't want to leave you either." He smirked playfully, "Why do you think I asked Mattias and Uwe to go and find a jack to change the wheel when the tyre wasn't even flat?"

"You sly fox, I wondered why they got out of the car as well."

Friedrich laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't clock it sooner. Don't worry, you have her name, you can look her up."

Eliás shook his head matter-of-factly. "Those drugs will completely wipe her memory of me Friedrich. Neither one of us speaks the other's language, we barely knew each other, in fact we didn't know each other at all! We live miles apart and neither of us are stupid enough to give up our lives for an almost-fling with a stranger. It's better." he stopped dead before he said 'if I don't do something stupid', stopping dead again before he thought '_fall in love with her'_, like even the very thought wave would condemn him somehow.

"_My boy..._ _I think you already have."_ Friedrich thought to himself as he watched Eliás' lithe body sigh and finally lie still. He could still remember him arriving in the Third Form, a gangly teenager who loved nothing more than to be discovering something new. Even from that point all those years ago, it had been obvious to anyone who spoke to him that they were talking to someone far cleverer than themselves. Friedrich had always found it amusing that Eliás was always so immersed in study or preoccupied with his own thoughts that he never noticed his own ability to turn female heads. That gangly teenager had fast become something to rival Anděl's good looks and physique and far exceeded him in wit. He had become a fine vampyre.

Both men heard light footsteps coming down the corridor outside, turning their heads up as the door opened. It was Adéla.

"Evening." She said. "I trust it was an eventful journey to the border."

"That's one way of putting it." said Friedrich, rolling his eyes and crossing his right ankle over his left knee.

Adéla took brisk steps to the sofa, her almost floor length hair flowing behind her, a massive grin on her face. "Wakey wakey sleepy head!" she said loudly, shaking Eliás on the shoulder.

"Need sleep..." Eliás murmured.

"Eliás, you're a vampyre!!!" she said, ridiculing him.

"And why are you up so early anyway?"

Adéla's eyes were alight with the cheek. "Wicked child, just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't be sprightly!!!"

"I meant..." Eliás began, before his eyelids drooped, "Never mind..."

"And you were always such a good student." She said with a playful sarcasm.

"Well we can't all be students forever."

She heard from his voice that he hadn't taken it in the way she intended and laughed. "Dr. Svboda I hadn't considered you a student in years. Now budge." She said, slapping him on the legs. He moved into an upright position, and she sat in the space his legs had occupied.

"And I'll have to leave you here." Said Friedrich, looking into his coffee cup with reluctance, just to check that it was actually empty and that now he had work to do. "Horse-feeding time."

"Thank you for driving again, Friedrich, it was very kind of you to offer." Said Adéla.

Friedrich gave a small bow. "Twas my pleasure." He said, before turning and heading in the direction of the stables.

Adéla suddenly pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and held it over her mouth, coughing into it. Eliás put his hand on her back. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She sniffed, before removing the handkerchief ad replacing it in her pocket. "Yes I'm fine my dear..." she said, "Just had a bit of a frog in my throat, really I'm as fit as a flea."

Eliás hoped so, maybe it was because of his preoccupation, but he hadn't noticed her coughing so much these days. Maybe it was because he didn't see her as much as usual at all there days.

"I was hoping I would catch you before you scurry off back to the Infirmary." She said once Friedrich had gone, "I have some issues to discuss."

"And scurrying off back to bed is out of the question? Besides, the last time someone said that to me it was to tell me that I had become even more of a freak than I was before."

"Well you _are_ about to become even more of a freak so pay attention." Adéla crossed her legs, "In the last thirty years it has rather come to our attention that we really do need to know more about the science behind us, we need to have more medicines, we need to educate ourselves, we are falling behind the humans on this front, and it's a failing."

"I couldn't agree more." Said Eliás.

"I brought this up at the Vampyre Senate of the Allied Countries a few months ago, and High Priestess Marie of France suggested that we teach Vampyre Biology in our Houses of Night, but we agreed to wait until the war was over and we could spare our specialists."

"What specialists?"

"I thought so." She said, rolling her eyes, "We intend to begin a Vampyre Biology course here in the next academic year. Of course, we'll be needing another professor. I thought I would see if you were interested in the post."

Eliás blinked. "You want _me _to be a professor?"

"That is the general idea."

"I'm not qualified." He said, "I've no teaching experience. My qualifications aren't even in biology."

"But your research is." She said, "You think like a human. I don't want you to plan and write up every lesson, you can design the course if you like, it has to include things like the science of the Change, bloodlust, blood thirst, differences between human and vampyre anatomy, things that explain to the fledglings exactly why they are different, and then maybe the effects of various drugs, basic first aid might not be a bad idea."

"And of course, since this is an educational establishment, there may be research bursaries."

Eliás sighed. His mind flitted back to the telegram from the day the German vampyres were admitted. As they spoke, communist powers were now seizing control in Czechoslovakia, including the University of Prague that he was so fond of. He couldn't work there anymore. But could he teach? Eliás was, at best, an impatient man, he had never felt any particular calling to work with fledglings, indeed as a fledgling himself he had found fledglings tiresome, if he took the job and hated it he wouldn't be able to get out of it. He had always avoided teaching jobs, always anticipating loathing every minute. But then, he could teach people to save lives. He could even tell them how to stop an early rejected Change. And he could tell them why. What about the fledglings that were just like him? That wanted to learn how to do that too? And if he could carry on research too...

He smiled, his charm resurfacing. "So how much did you say you were going to pay me?"

* * *

Apparently, thank the Goddess, scurrying off back to bed had not been out of the question. Eliás didn't care that it was now actually time to get up. Quite frankly, he didn't think that he had ever been so tired in his life. It was only one day without sleep, he had gone far more without it during his doctorate studies, indeed there had been nothing quite like an all-nighter in a Chemistry lab, but this little night spent in a car, requiring no intellectual effort at all, had drained him beyond comparison.

If only vampyres could enjoy the benefits of a drink...

Eliás couldn't sleep. His mind buzzed, wondering in and out of today's events, the voices and sounds from one muffling into another, but it always came back to the same one. If she survived that then she really would be lucky. A bullet lodged in the spinal cord – hardly a good prognosis. Hadn't everyone had enough over these wars? The allies were now currently making plans to tie Germany's economy into that of the rest of Europe, so that for them to start another war without ruining themselves would be impossible. Something to do with coal and steel, he hadn't really been listening to what the car radio had been crackling on about on the way back to Prague. He wondered where she was now...

"_You have to trust them, you know. What else can you do at the end of the day?"_

Eliás blinked. It couldn't be...

"Antonie, is that you?" he whispered.

"_It is." _

He would know that voice anywhere, even after all this time. She sounded calm, wise. Her voice prodded at him and revealed a long-buried annoyance. "Why didn't you respond to me? I needed to talk to you, I tried to contact you so many times and you ignored me."

"_I didn't want to ignore you Eliás! You're too damn funny to ignore. Why do you think I couldn't reply?"_

She genuinely sounded pained. Her voice was quieter than it had been when he heard her the first time, before it had been prominent in his mind. How stupid could he be? How dare he act like he was the only person on the Earth that had lost someone? There were many more that had lost their entire families, their lives! None of them could talk to their lost loved ones. And he after two and a half years was still mourning a friend who, in comparison with some unfortunate souls, had had a reasonably pain-free death!

"Antonie..." he said quietly, so that he would not be overheard, "I am so sorry... It's my fault you're still stuck to me..."

"_It's alright..." _she said, _"I'd rather be stuck to you than anyone."_

"Then why now???"

It was like she was sighing_. "This is the last time you'll hear me."_ She said.

"What?"

It felt like she was smiling. _"You've moved on Eliás. You've discovered your purpose, why you need to live. Lenobia has taught you that."_ She said, feeling him jerk, _"You're ready to let me go."_

"What does this have to do with Lenobia?"

"_She has reminded you how to fight. Amongst other things." _

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. _"You love her."_

"I don't love her, I barely know her."

"_That's why you kissed her and held her like she would shatter beneath your grasp, isn't it?"_

He couldn't answer her.

"_Friedrich thinks it too; I'm just the one who's saying it."_

"Well good for you."

"_Don't be a redhead."_

"Forget it."

"_Your personal feelings aside, you've found someone who is just as unusual in this world as you are, she has taught you a lot about determination. You need to look for the light at the end of the tunnel Eliás, not the darkness around it because trust me, you will get lost. It's taken a while for that to register in that huge brain of yours, but finally it has. You're ready to let me go." _

"You realise I'll never truly let you go? You're still missing here."

"_I know. But I am at peace now. It's okay you know, letting me go. It's not betraying me or my memory."_

"Antonie..." he began, "I've been thinking..."

"_Well that's never a good sign."_

He ignored her. "I think I know why I've been clinging onto you for these past two years." He said.

"_Well hallelujah."_

"You represent a time of my life when things were simple. A time of my life that I miss. If I let you go..." he muttered, "That time is already gone forever. I don't want it to fade in my memory too."

"_Eliás, letting go doesn't equate to forgetting."_

"But it does for me. I haven't even been able to think about my father for years. In my head I see everything so vividly, every little thing, every happiness every sadness." He sighed, "It's the downside to my brain Antonie. I thought that studying, going as far as I could, would make a good life for me in this 'perfect' society." His hands slapped lifelessly into his lap, "And I was wrong. I just don't want to lose sight of what was good."

"_Ah my friend, you have the power to ease other people's pain but not your own."_

"Only physical pain remember."

"_I'm not so sure..."_

"I can recall almost everything you said to me over those four years in school. I could probably write it down for you. You're not just in my head you're in my heart."

"_Well then I want you to remember me. Every happiness, every sadness, every success and every failure. Through you I can be remembered for what I truly was, not for an exaggerated image concocted through what I happened to do right. I feel honoured that someone can remember me that way." _when Eliás was silent in return, his thoughts a jumbled mess, she carried on, _"It has to be this way." _She said, _"And just because there's no telepathic connection anymore, doesn't mean I'm not there. It doesn't mean that you won't talk to me, and it doesn't mean that I won't listen."_

"Deep." He commented.

"_I wanted our last conversation to be a good one."_

"I just have one question." He said, "It's been plaguing me for a while. You're a telepath, you must have known that they were going to kill you."

"_Ah well, I could have screamed 'we're all going to die', and then I thought better." _She replied, _"Why do you think I even walked in there in the first place?"_

"For the children."

"_Yes. You already know that if we had tried to escape we would have failed. They would have dragged every last one of us back, and then everyone men women and children would know they were being dragged to their deaths. Would that have been better?"_

Eliás wanted to kick himself for having been so stupid. "Of course." He said, "I'm sorry. I'm not thinking straight."

"_You're talking to a dead woman."_

He paused for a moment, gazing softly up into the ceiling. "I know." He said.

He could swear he could see her biting her lip. _"Are you ready?"_

He bit his own and let out an in-held breath. "Yes."

"_Then..._" she said, her voice calm and clear, _"Until we meet again, my friend."_

Eliás felt his heart shudder as her words echoed through him. It was no use now. She was already gone. Not even an inkling of her in his mind, except what she had left behind. To live on. Beneath his breath as he fell into a deep sleep, his lips uttered her last words.

"Until we meet again."

* * *

**R&R!**


	12. Cooperation

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Here's another one. Enjoy! Apart from the obvious existence of vampyres, the events that occur in this fic are kept as close to the historical truth as possible. **

* * *

_9__th__ September 1960_

* * *

You know the feeling you have some mornings when you just know that today something horrible is going to happen? That sinking feeling of suspicion and the fear, like wanting to look over your shoulder wherever you go?

Sometimes, before something bad was about to happen, vampyres could sense it, know before even. In fact it was quite common in vampyres, a sixth sense for foreboding, unforeseen danger, an instinct, if you like. Eliás dearly wished he could.

It was something about himself he would change. Would it make him wiser? More prepared for life, maybe? Eliás had never had that ability, that gut feeling. He had his intuition, yes, he could make intelligent predictions, but not something unforeseen. Not ever. Not even when his father passed away – he had been having a great day up until he got home, threw his bag down by the stairs, walked through into the kitchen and found his beloved father sprawled on the floor, his eyes closed like he had just decided to lie down there and then and have a nap, his body cold and still. Every day to this one, Eliás had wondered, when he had been so close to his father, why he hadn't even had so much as an inkling when his life ended? It was like a sign that he wasn't caring enough to feel it, or too ignorant to pay attention to it. He often wondered whether working with sick people, especially during the Wars, many of which would die, had desensitised him to it, like it would a medical doctor or a nurse, or even a veterinary surgeon.

And then, when something awful did happen and the other vampyres were gathered, explaining to each other how they had just had that feeling today, Eliás would sit in silence.

He woke up completely as normal that day. It was summer, and so the sun had yet to set, he drew back his curtains to watch it, even if it did make him feel sick, it was worth it. There was still birdsong coming from the various nests that adorned the ledges and crannies of the castle wall. Opening the window and hooking the one curtain back, he continued getting dressed in the shadowy half of the room, just enjoying looking at the streaming light. The room looked entirely different when lit by daylight as opposed to electricity. Once dressed in black trousers and white shirt, his white lab-tunic, which he had practically lived in since he had graduated, pulled on and done up, all except the top few buttons, he reluctantly pulled the curtain shut again and locked his room, heading for the teacher's lounge where he could find his post.

Pulling the bundle of letters out from amongst the various essays, thinking how his cubby hole had become just like all the others, even Anděl set written work from time to time. Flicking through the thick envelopes, he scowled. Now, instead of the Nazi swastika printed beneath the stamp, there was the communist hammer and sickle. Not again... Ever since the Coup d'état of 1948, the communist party KSČ only two years after having been voted in had placed a freeze on political elections. In other words, they were not moving out. He had received visits from political men, and even at some points Soviet officials, sometimes offering him vast amounts of money to work for them, sometimes full-blown threatening him to work for them. The capacity of the work was as undefined. The ones that had come with generous offers he had sarcastically declined, the ones that had come with violent threats he had sent home on stretchers.

There was not a lot they could threaten him with. A vamp that can stop bullets was, in their view, impenetrable. Eliás certainly hoped that was the impression he had left upon them. Letting out an impatient huff, he shoved them back into the pigeon hole and took himself off in the direction of the Dining Hall.

Looking around the door, he saw the first few fledglings wearily digging into their food, but not another professor in sight. Odd. Childishly maybe, he closed the door again and headed back for the teacher's lounge, not wanting to have to eat by himself. He knew he was early, but certainly not the earliest, Friedrich would have been up and about and probably riding one of his own horses well before anyone else was up. Crossing the hall, he saw Veronika walking with a vengeance towards him.

"Veronika..."

"Thank the Goddess I've found you..." she interrupted, her face its usual stressed self, but this time there was something different, her eyes were red. "Věra asked me to find you."

"Where is everyone?"

"In the High Priestess' chambers." She said, her lip trembling as she looked away briefly to hide her red eyes, "Adéla passed away last night."

* * *

Adéla's room was much how Eliás had expected it to be when he arrived. Dark, solemn, mournful. Tears abundant, each and every person held a little candle in their hand, holding it up for her in pride. Only Anděl had not cried yet, his jaw set and his lips tightly pressed together, holding Lýdie in his arms as she sobbed. Friedrich was letting tears slide too, not bothering to wipe them away. Even Věra, whom Eliás thought he would never see cry, was shaking, her cheeks stained, the hand that wasn't holding the candle was clenched into a tight fist.

She had slipped away in her sleep. Peacefully. There had been no pain, no fear. She never even knew. Eliás wondered if she ever went to bed for the day and wondered whether or not she would wake up. He supposed he should have seen this coming – she had been coughing for years now, ever since he was Marked and moved to the Prague Castle, it was the first case of incomplete health he had ever seen. She always assured everybody that it was normal in older vampyres. When all it did was turn her into a walking timer. Adéla was the kind of person you never expected to die, you just always thought she would be there, complaining about some petty thing or another, or making her fledglings laugh. Such a warm, vivacious person was difficult to imagine in any other state.

Věra was the first to speak, and lift the silence. "I will announce it to the fledglings." She said, biting her lip, giving her a face that made her look like she was on a murder mission. Eliás bit his lip too. Věra was the one that Adéla would have named as her successor. She was extremely strong, sensible, she would be a good High Priestess. But she wouldn't be Adéla.

Eliás finally allowed himself to breathe. He couldn't cry. His mind was already in working mode. It was like a cold, callous shell protecting him. He had to be able to deal with this, just like in any death that might occur in the Infirmary; he _had _to be able to deal with it, because nobody else would. It was something that he couldn't help, it was automatic. He would walk through this with an emotional windscreen before him, and not until the storm was over would he break down. He wasn't the type who cried easily. Would he even cry at all? A part of him dearly hoped so, and yet another part of him dearly hoped not.

"I know this may seem forward..." said Eliás, "But we should probably start thinking about her entailment and funeral arrangements."

They all looked up at him. "Eliás is right." Said Friedrich, "She cannot lie here forever."

"Then let us commence." Said Edita, the Spells and Rituals Mistress, wiping her eyes, "I'll have the groundsmen construct a funerary pyre."

"Do we even know where she kept her will?" asked Anděl, rocking Lýdie gently in his arms.

"She has a safe in her study..." said Lýdie, "It's probably in there."

Eliás rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "And does anyone know the combination?"

* * *

"So who wants to open it?"

Everyone stared at the envelope on the table before them, not even wanting to so much as touch it. Eliás wasn't sure which task was harder; opening the safe, or opening the will itself. Adéla's study was still warm, it still smelled like her, it still felt like her, the envelope wasn't ready to be opened yet. Lýdie was still too upset to even glance at it, her head tucked in beneath Anděl's chin, her body still with shock. The Swordmaster sighed heavily, before reaching forward to the table and taking the envelope in his fingers. He slit it silently with a small knife from his belt, and pulled out a large wad of paper.

"She wrote a letter to us..." he said, wetting his lip, "_'My children...'_" he began, "_'If you are reading this, then I am long gone. I don't want you to be upset. All you need to know is that I am with the Goddess in the Otherworld, and putting a good word in for each and every one of you. Věra, please do not be sad for me, I want my farewell to be a happy one, my darling, promise me you won't try to be too brave. Remember the ultimate act of strength is to feel. I could not have asked for a better sister or advisor. Friedrich, my dear friend, it was an honour to call you my colleague for our three-hundred years, your wisdom has forgotten more than mine has ever learned, your kindness has moved mountains, your good nature brings our species the hope it so needs. Anděl...'_" Anděl felt the tears well, "_'...only such a brave and true warrior would I trust to protect this family, because as we well know, they are a hopeless bunch of sitting ducks.'_" He allowed himself to snort, "_'Lýdie, my sweetheart, dry your eyes. To see you find the true love you deserve after all these years has brought me joy I didn't know the Goddess could give. Your level-headedness and reliability hold us all together more than you know, have faith and never doubt yourself, you have the world at your feet. Edita, Edita, I shall miss our long chats over coffee most dearly, my sister, but please don't let your Sixth Formers demolish the S&R block again, I'm still in debt even now you know. And Eliás, so young and yet so wise, you are worth more than your weight in gold to the world and even more to us. Out of all the fledglings that have passed through my care, you are the one that has impressed me more than any other. You are destined for great things, and don't you forget it, especially not as of now. I'm not sorry, so you had better not be, plus, I know you can't resist a challenge. _

_Farewell my brothers, sisters, sons, daughters and friends. I love you all. Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again. _

_Yours eternally, _

_Adéla __Horáčk__ová.__'_"

Everyone sat in silence, like it was her voice that had said it and they were trying to memorise forever what it sounded like. Anděl's eyes went wide as they darted down the page, moving quickly from left to right as he reread the words over and over again. "She's named a successor." He said, his face clearly trying to hide his astonishment as he reread it yet again just to make sure that he was reading it in the correct context. "But I don't understand..." he uttered, "It can't be right..."

"What's wrong?" asked Lýdie, placing a hand on his chest delicately.

"It says here..." he said, taking a pause, "That the person she wants as her heir..." he looked at Eliás, "Is you."

* * *

Eliás glared at Anděl like he had insulted his mother. "How can you mess about at a time like this???" he scolded, "Is that how you treat Adéla's memory???"

Anděl looked horrified at the suggestion. "No! Never! Eliás I'm serious, she's named you!"

Eliás got up from his seat on the sofa and strode over to Anděl, snatching the paper from between his fingers and scouring the tiny print. Anděl was right. He immediately began chuckling as he read it. "What? Is this Adéla's idea of a joke?" his expression of laughter turned to one of bewilderment, passing it to Věra for inspection, "I know she thought I was the biggest girl in the place but this is taking it too far!"

Věra read the will quietly. "Adéla would have wanted to go out with a bang." She said, "I can imagine, she's watching us from the Otherworld with a bucket of popcorn and laughing her head off." She suddenly appeared to have seen something below the statement, "Wait, there's more." She said, "_'P.S. In case you are all wondering if I am high on an illegal substance or have finally crossed the line into clinical insanity, may I offer my deepest, most deadly sincerity concerning Eliás. I have thought long and hard about this and indeed it has not been an easy decision to make. You have entrusted to me your lives and I ask only that you trust me one more time. I know that I do not need to explain my decision, his intelligence, affinity and entire person are most perfectly suited to the post, except for his Y chromosome, which, as I'm sure you will agree with me, is a pathetic excuse for a Y chromosome anyway. I would trust no one so much with what I have held so dear. And so as of the moment of my death, I name Dr. Eliás Svboda as the High Priest of the House of Night of Prague, Czechoslovakia.'_"

Eliás was gobsmacked. "What was that she was saying about crossing the line into clinical insanity?" he said, his voice hard.

"Adéla is right." Said Věra suddenly, "If Eliás were female the decision is an absolute no-brainer, forgive the modern slang."

"The Vampyre Council will never approve it."

"Shekinah was a good friend of Adéla's."

"The decision is not Shekinah's alone."

"Well..." said Friedrich, "If the House's Council approves it, I don't think the Vampyre Council _can _do anything about it unless they can prove that Eliás is clearly unsuitable."

"I would like to draw to everyone's attention that I am a _man_!!! In case you all hadn't noticed!!!" Eliás said, irritated, pointing at his head, and then moving his hands down so as to indicate to his masculine figure.

Edita chuckled. "Don't worry dear..." she said, casting a mocking eye over him, "We'd noticed."

Věra raised her hand into the air. "All in favour of Eliás, raise your hands."

Eliás blinked softly in bafflement as every vampyre in the room raised their hand. This wasn't a joke anymore... Everyone was looking at him, smiling. They, actually wanted him to take over, to watch over him like his children when they themselves were older, wiser, more brilliant than he. They were his teachers, for crying out loud!

"I don't know..." he muttered.

Friedrich got up and sat himself down next to Eliás, who appeared to be lost in his thoughts alone. "My boy..." he said, "Do you remember that woman who came here, in forty-five, a Captain of the German Army? Do you remember how she held her own?" Eliás remembered. "The rule that says men can't be Nyx's avatars, is right next to the one that says women can't join the army. Each and every person, male or female, is a soldier, an officer of the Armed Forces or not. And each and every vampyre is an avatar of Nyx, be they male, female, High Priestesses or warriors."

"But I'm not brave like she was."

"You don't know how brave you are. Not until you test yourself. You have very little self-confidence outside of your comfort zones, but who doesn't? You are stronger than you think you are, and you just have to believe it."

"I'm not Adéla. I don't know how to be Adéla."

"You don't have to be Adéla, you just have to be you. Trust me, you is all you need. So go and make the history you've worked so hard for."

"I never tried to make history." He said, "Only the future."

* * *

There was so much to do. Eliás had never actually had to deal with something like this before. There were all her financial workers, solicitors, friends to inform. Věra and Edita were named executors of her will. Clever woman, he thought, she had not made him one so that he could not get out of this. Probate had to be granted, so her matters could be distributed and resolved. All her accounts logged and dissolved. The human government had to be informed in some way, as did the Vampyre Council, although Shekinah had already been contacted with a view to attending the funeral and Eliás was fairly sure that as a result Duantia would have been appropriately notified. And what were they going to do with all her things? Not to mention what they were going to do about him.

Early in the morning, after most of the others were in bed, he sat in her study, going through her safe and sorting things into piles. It wasn't difficult, most of her affairs were so orderly that organising it wouldn't take too much effort, there was just so much of it. Letters, bank statements, invoices, insurance details – extensive ones, tax forms, payroll documents, staff budgets, licensing for medical practice and storage of dangerous drugs as well as for the upkeep of a listed building, health and safety policies, electricity and water bills, all for Prague Castle. There was no denying it, Adéla had been a financial tycoon. It was like running a multimillion koruna business.

Heaving another pile of opened letters onto his lap, he began checking the contents of the torn envelopes, putting them into piles on her desk. He pulled his chair closer to it, he was sitting in the chair normally occupied by the visitor, still unable to sit in hers. The largest letter in the pile caught his eye. It was an A4 envelope, with a piece of cardboard inside it to keep its contents impeccable. Across the back an 'URGENT' was stamped in red ink, the communist hammer and sickle printed beneath the postage stamp.

Were they sending propaganda to her too? They had never sent him anything like this. Pushing the torn flap out of the way with his fingers, he pulled out a think wodge of paper, with a letter addressed to Adéla at the top.

"_Dear Ms. __Horáčk__ová," _it began,

"_It has come to our attention whilst evaluating the economy of the Prague House of Night that the regular surpassing of spending limits in this institution is placing the economy of the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic in compromise." _

Immediately Eliás' face deteriorated to one of silent anger and disbelief. Spending limits? The rest of the country was under financial lockdown but the House of Night retained immunity due to exemption from most human taxes and funding from the Vampyre Council. He snorted. Meaning that in their dealings they were pumping too much money into the hands of the people, and less into the government's pocket. Spending limits indeed.

"_Due to the refusal of cooperation by yourself and your members of staff on not only this matter but others before it..." _

He frowned. So that what this was about. The only other member of staff to have direct contact with members of the KSČ was him.

"_...the bureaucracy sees fit to reclaim the land previously secured by the Vampyre Council regarding the heritage of Prague Castle. This claim will be effective as if this day next week._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Ota Šik,_

_Minister for Economy, Central Committee, __KSČ."_

Eliás let the letter in his hands rest against the desk, the information that his eyes found so shocking channelling into him by his fingers rather than his sight. On further inspection, the wodge of paper was in fact a list of legal documents sent to prove that this was legal. Tilting the paper up again, he looked for the date printed neatly near the top of the page. 7th September 1960.

He shook his head to himself, his eye-line hard and cold, his jaw fixing. _"Bastards."_

* * *

**R&R!**


	13. Specimen

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Here's another one! **

* * *

"I don't believe it."

"Well believe it. Because it's happening."

Eliás didn't like to get everyone out of bed in the daylight hours, but it was fair to say that this was an emergency. The windows were shuttered closed and the room was lit only by lamps adorning the tables in random corners and also by candles flickering dimly, drowning in the darkness they had to illuminate. Pacing about the room with a vengeance, he was the only one not to sit, barely out of slumber.

"How can they reclaim the land?" asked Anděl, once again holding a sleepy Lýdie in his lap.

"Because according to them it belongs to them." Eliás explained his shoes tapping against the wooden floorboards as he walked, "Technically we don't own this campus. It does actually belong to the government, because it is a part of human heritage and history, and obviously the Vampyre Council didn't have the money to buy it, and the government at the time didn't have to money to build a separate House, so they came to an agreement that we could set up shop here, so to speak. It saves the government and Council funding, it has all the facilities we need without getting in the humans' way. And here we've been ever since. For over a millennium. We don't own the campus, but we do actually own rights to the campus. But they're not in Adéla's safe, they are locked away in Venice for safe-keeping."

"So why do they think they can do this?" asked Věra.

"Because under a communist government all rules they don't like are just abolished."

"And, dare I ask..." Věra continued, "They've been in power for fourteen years. Why now?"

Eliás finished pacing around the room, and dropped into a nearby chair, smiling sarcastically. "Ah." He said, interlocking his fingers like a sleazy businessman, "Due to lack of willing by Adéla and her staff to cooperate with government officials on 'spending limits'."

"It's our money to spend." She said, "And the only other person to deal with their officials is you."

He nodded. "Precisely."

She narrowed her eyes. "I, don't understand."

Even though she did. She just didn't want to believe it. "They've been trying to recruit me for years." He lowered his voice slightly and looked to each and every one of them, "As far as I'm concerned," he said, "Adéla did not deal directly with them, in fact she ignored them completely. The only interpretation of lack of cooperation would be their failing in enlisting me."

Věra's fears were confirmed. "Oh no..." she said.

"This." He waved the letter in the air, "Is extortion." He paused and lowered his voice again, "'Work for us or lose everything'. It has absolutely bugger all to do with spending limits."

"What are we going to do?"

He closed his eyes and pressed on the sides of his nose to relieve the pressure building in his sinuses. "I don't know."

"And Shekinah is coming tomorrow..." said Serafina, quiet and mouse-like. "Everyone's coming tomorrow."

Adéla's funeral was tomorrow.

"By the way..." said Friedrich, the only one who had still been up and dressed when Eliás had gone knocking on doors. "A load more of those propaganda letters got delivered to your pigeon hole about an hour ago."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh great."

"How are they going to reclaim the land? They can't barge in and throw us out."

"By their law, they can." He said, "But the government is spiralling into a recession at the moment, they will probably want to sell some of the land as well as some of the contents of the castle. Think about it, it's a treasure hoard."

"Worse..." said Věra, "How the Hell are we getting out of this?"

"They want me."

"Well they can't have you."

"There is a reason the Soviets have kept this country poor, so that Moscow stays in control. They don't want the KSČ as an independent power so their being short of money is no lie. The only way out of it I can see would be to pay them off. But how much is this campus worth? God... And where in the world are we going to get that kind of money?"

* * *

Eliás marched back to Adéla's study and made a mental note to make himself coffee. Lots of coffee, because this was going to take a while, and he didn't have a second to lose. The funeral had been awful. There wasn't a person there who hadn't shed a tear, and the number of people who came was amazing. They had barely had enough space to accommodate all of them. People from all over the world, and those that came from too far away to make it in time sending moving letters with tear-splodges smudging the ink. Eliás finally felt the weight of all of this on his shoulders. A sea of anonymous faces, only a few of which he could even put names to, let alone say that he knew. There were Council members there, Shekinah and Duantia being the most prominent, and of course the entire student body. All clad in black and clutching tissues wearily. For now, it was easier to block it out, pretend it hadn't happened. Nothing he could do would ever bring her back, and he had the future of the House to focus on. He couldn't break down now. Still... It quite honestly felt like he had lost a part of himself with her...

"Eliás!"

Serafina called to him from down the hallway. Still dressed entirely in black from the funeral, she held her hat in her hand as she ran after him, her face red and raw from crying.

"Serafina?"

She stopped in front of him and caught her breath. "Shekinah wants an audience with you."

Now? The funeral had only just ended and already Shekinah wanted to corner him. He had seen her at the funeral of course, but he had not been the one to receive her earlier that evening due to overseeing the moving of Adélas body.

"Now?" he asked. She nodded. "Where?"

"In the Library."

Eliás turned on his heel and headed off in the opposite direction, breezing past Serafina without a word.

"Are you alright?" she asked his retreating back.

"I will be."

The Library was one of the largest parts of the castle, it was also one of only a few parts of the castle where humans could be found almost a frequently as vampyres, however fledglings were usually scarce. All the fledglings had been given the day off, and most of them were heading to the Dining Hall in an eerie silence, muttering under their breath. The humans would not yet be up. Picking up the old heavy circular door handle, he twisted it and leant his weight against six-hundred years of weighty oak. Stepping briskly into the huge library which wouldn't have looked out of place in Hogwarts, he closed the door behind him, and came face to face with Shekinah herself.

"So we finally meet." Shekinah clasped her one hand into the other, "Merry meet Eliás."

"Merry meet, High Priestess." He replied, keeping his back rigid. The Vampyre High Priestess was indeed quite something to behold. Long ebony hair to the floor and a beautiful face, she was a picture of perfection. On a sadder note her entire person reminded him of a severer Adéla. He briefly imagined the two of them, thick as thieves, Adéla the cheeky and liberal one that was always in trouble for one reason or the other, and Shekinah the quiet and conservative one, whom Adéla always managed to drag into trouble with her. Meeting Shekinah was almost anti-climactic. Just like the moment he sat in Věra's office all those years ago while she told him he had a magical affinity. For all her power, presence and influence, Shekinah was as much a person as the next vampyre or even the next human. He respected her or course, but he didn't feel the need to fall at her feet, as some did. How disappointing life was turning out to be.

She held his gaze for a while, dark eyes staring straight into his soul, before tilting her lip and narrowing her one eye ever so slightly in an amused if not confused expression.

"So it's true..." she said, her lip tilting even more, "I had heard the rumours. Of course Adéla told me about you, I wasn't sure whether or not she was winding me up..." And there was the punch line. Eliás remained silent as she made her observation of him, but never once did the eye-contact break. He felt like she was examining him, like her vision was bouncing around reflecting off the inside of him in streams of light. "Hm... I see she wasn't." Her mouth opened a little and he knew to stay quiet, she hadn't finished, "You are powerful indeed. I see power, and tremendous potential."

"Is that so?"

She smiled knowingly. "My affinity is to know the affinities of others around me, but so many times one misjudges the definition of the word 'affinity'. Yes it is the form in which your Goddess-given power manifests, but how it manifests is moulded by the person you are. For example you, in you I sense a colossal rigour, a profound desire for knowledge, to knock sense into the heads of others. I sense acerbic cleverness and efficiency on pain of death. You won't suffer fools. Yet beneath your exterior I sense a pure heart."

"I'm flattered." He said politely, whilst still observing her face. She was still 'sensing'.

"Although I have to say..." She said.

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Your powers, whilst being extraordinary as they are, are not yet at their zenith. They will become stronger yet. Has anyone ever told you you're a fascinating individual?"

Eliás took a mental blow. Is that all she thought he was? A specimen to be studied? "Many times." He said in a low and sturdy voice. "And throughout my time I would never have dared to hold the impression that I was any more."

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. It had been sarcasm, not modesty. Her first thought was to say that he was a clever boy, but thought again. It would only incur another sardonic comment, and she doubted that he would appreciate being undermined, not even by her. And something told her that she would not outwit him should he choose to reply.

"Forgive me Eliás..." she said, "Your situation is so unusual I cannot help but feel surprised."

"I suppose I must." He said, "And worry not, you wouldn't be the first."

"Pray what do you think of this predicament?"

"I think it's Adéla's idea of posthumous amusement." He said, an amused tone in his own voice.

"I think you may be right." She said, tilting her head to the side.

"Nevertheless..." he said, "Adéla chose me and for that I am eternally honoured. She deemed me suitable to protect and continue all that she has held dear for her entire life, she trusted me to look after the family she left behind. And for that I will never stop fighting, even if only to prove its worth. I will fight for that high regard she held me in, even if only to remind everyone of its existence."

Eliás didn't know, from Shekinah's expression, whether she was impressed or infuriated. He dearly hoped that she could 'see' into him now. He would not be walked over by people just because he was a man. And if he were to stand even a fleeting chance at being allowed to succeed Adéla, Shekinah would need to see that. Shekinah was one of the few that might indulge Adéla with the possibility of having been serious about this.

"I like you, Dr. Svboda." She said, "The circumstances are indeed atypical, but I like you. I would never dare presume to disregard Adéla's wishes. She would never jeopardise all this for fun, and if I should think if ever the thought entered my head then she would haunt me for the rest of my days."

He chuckled. "I can well believe it."

"But this will still go to the Council." She said.

He smirked cheekily. "Not even if you approve?"

"I said that I liked you, not that I approved of you."

"Prepare an answer; you may have to give a reason."

Shekinah then raised both eyebrows at the bold statement. "Somehow I feel it is more your way to be subtle." He mentally kicked himself, he hadn't meant to be rude, "I'm sorry Eliás." She said, "I miss her too. When you live in a House of Night, and there is this, motherly figure there watching over you, you feel completely secure. And when they depart, so does that security."

"I can cope. I can accept that she's gone. But I do miss her."

"You deal with death well, don't you?"

Eliás inwardly snorted at the falseness of it. "I worked as a doctor in World War Two. There was a time in my life where I saw hundreds of deaths a week. I had to deal with that then and I have to deal with this now."

"She was motherly. Even to me..." she said, her own sadness brimming over from behind her cool facade.

He nodded. "She was."

A knock at the oak door echoed off the entire interior of the library. Shekinah nodded to him. "Come in." He said.

Shekinah spoke before Eliás had ever looked over his shoulder. "Duantia, perfect timing."

"I apologise for the interruption." She said, "But I also require an audience with Dr. Svboda."

"Go ahead."

Duantia looked to Eliás. "The Vampyre Council received two days ago, how shall we put this, 'notification', that the land on which Prague Castle and hence the House of Night stands is to be reclaimed by the Czechoslovakian government."

"You heard." Said Eliás dryly.

"Oh yes." she said, eyeing him up, "And what on Earth is going on?"

He returned her business-like attitude, annoyed at how she so obviously expected to be talking to a woman. "All those 'spending limits' are bullshit, excuse my French."

"I should think they are." Duantia scoffed, "When the Council funds the House."

He nodded. "You are quite right, it's our money we're spending, however I fear the meaning of this 'notification' is rather less obvious and rather more implicit than its stated reason."

"We already suspect so much." Said Duantia quietly, like she might be overheard, "High Priestess Valentina of St. Petersburg warned us of it many years ago, I believe."

"Since the end of the war the Soviets have been trying to 'secure my loyalties'. Letters sent to me and to Adéla imply the same motive."

Shekinah narrowed her eyes and looked away for a moment. "To extort you."

"Regrettably I see no easy way out of this." He said, "Either, I go willingly, which is about as likely to happen as either of you becoming 'women of ill-repute'. Or, we buy them out. You don't have that kind of money and I certainly don't have that kind of money." He raised an eyebrow at both of them, "What does that leave us with?"

"Valentina told me about this..." said Shekinah as she absorbed this information, "I didn't think they would go to these measures."

Eliás shook his head. "Nor did I."

Duantia looked briefly to Shekinah. "I will have the Inhabitation Rights sent from Venice immediately. I see we are going to need them."

"And I will make our opinion clear to the government." The High Priestess replied sternly.

"With all due respect..." said Eliás, "I have experience with these people, and, even though I would like to believe that those measures would be enough I cannot help but think that we should be fighting fire with fire."

Duantia looked amused. "You've clearly thought this through."

"I haven't slept in forty-eight hours thinking it through."

"We have been trying to build a good relationship with the humans, you want to destroy that?" she said.

"Not these humans." He retaliated. "I don't want people hurt. I've seen too much for that. But I think, a little fear struck into their hearts might go in our favour."

"When?" asked Duantia tiredly, looking up at him as if she was looking over a pair of old spectacles, "We can't wait until they come knocking at the doors with a battering ram."

"I wish I knew." He said, smirking slightly, "What do you think of this predicament?"

* * *

**R&R!**


	14. Consideration

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Here I am again. Thanks to all you guys who are still following this! If you are still following this... **

* * *

_11__th__ September 1960_

* * *

"You wished to speak with me?"

Duantia indicated with her hand for him to enter Adéla's study, and his entire form emerged from behind the door, latching it silently behind him. It was about time, Eliás had had this thrust in his face for less time than it took them to make up their minds.

"We do, please have a seat."

It felt like a walk of shame. To his left, he noticed the presence of a few other Council members that were due to travel back to Venice with Shekinah in under an hour. Their cases already packed, they were already dressed for travelling, an aspect that made Eliás feel even more inferior. He was taller than each and every one of them, and at the same time he was the smallest. Eliás _hated _feeling small.

"Where is Shekinah?" he asked politely, noticing the High Priestess' absence. Surely it should be her passing verdict?

"She has gone to the government to undo this ridiculous dealing with the land." Said Duantia dismissively, "Now Eliás..."she began, threading her fingers together and avoiding his eye-contact briefly, "I will cut straight to the chase. Myself and the other Council members, those present and otherwise, have thought long and hard about this. I'm sorry..." she said, her words coming slowly, like had they been from any other person they would have been stuck in her throat, "The Council has declined your claim to the leadership of the Prague House."

Eliás' stomach tied itself in a knot. He had expected this. How much of a fool would he have had to have been to have even presumed that they would allow it? In fact, the anticipation of it all was enough to dull the sting of rejection to almost nothing. "Oh..." he said, processing it slowly, "May I know the reasons as to why?"

"As is your right." Said Duantia, "As Shekinah said Eliás, we like you. We like your attitude, to your work, to the safety of the House, to Adéla's wishes, We like your sense of reason, I particularly admire your ability to keep a cool head in difficult times." She opened her mouth like she was going to continue, but then half-closed it, her eyes darting to the side, before seemingly rephrasing her sentence, "But..." she said, "We feel that, while these attributes do you credit, they also hinder you."

Confusion struck him. "Excuse me?"

"We feel, Eliás, that, to the extent at which you are to the point, you lack the compassion required by a House's leader to relate to and deal with difficult fledglings, the compassion required to make you approachable."

He was silent for a moment, just to let the significance of her speech sink in. To her, not to him. "With all due respect, you have only met me once, and at a time of bereavement."

"You know as well as we do that these decisions cannot be delayed." Said Duantia. If he had gone so far as to give her the credit, she actually looked a little upset with the decision.

"If, by compassion, you mean the compassion that a woman could show?" Duantia looked offended. His brow jumped playfully and a smirk played on his lips, "I could be as gay as a picnic basket for all you know."

"That is not the point."

"Forgive me for entertaining the opinion that this decision was rather forthcoming."

"As you said, you have a right to know how we came to this decision." Said Duantia, "It is routine procedure that before we elect anyone to be an avatar of Nyx, we always check their backgrounds first."

Eliás wanted dearly to laugh. What on Earth could they find on him? "And what did you find?"

"We have done research on your qualifications, criminal record, history. Your academic record is exceptional, your university professors gave us some very noteworthy references. Your criminal record is clean, as is your background..." said Duantia, "Which is fairly foolproof, to be honest, although there is one rather large detail."

He was tired of this now. "What?"

"You were raised by your father."

He narrowed his eyes on confusion. "Yes. That's not a secret it's common knowledge."

"You were raised without a mother." She said, "Can you expect us to deem you capable of relating to girls?"

"I don't live under a rock." He said firmly, his patience wearing thin, "I work with women, I have no problem teaching girls and haven't for the past fifteen years."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Duantia shuffling papers in her hands, reordering them with precision and casting her eye over them to remind herself of their contents.

"I have here..." she said, "A copy of your mother's divorce statement."

At that moment his impatience exploded into full-blown fury. "And pray..." he said as calmly as he could, "What does that have to do with anything?"

He was doing it again. Asking questions to which he already knew the answer.

* * *

Opening the door to the staff lounge that day felt like being pushed head-first flying, all his qualms and worries on the outside becoming an actual physical force shoving against his shoulders and knocking him off balance. It took all his strength to shut the door on them.

Věra's head turned as she heard the latch, her eyes homing in on the dark circles under his eyes and his weary stride. "Are you alright?" she asked, "You look awful."

"It's been a long day." He said, collapsing into a chair with a sigh.

"Coffee Eliás?" asked Serafina from her post by the kettle.

"Oh please." He said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, flexing his jaw a little. Might as well tell them what they were dying to hear. "Duantia spoke with me this morning." He said, "She and the other Council members have come to a decision."

Lýdie sat on the edge of her seat. "And?"

"And..." he shifted his weight in his own, "I'm not the High Priest of Prague."

Her face fell, as did those of others around the room. "Why?"

"Um..." he rubbed the side of his head, focussing on a random point in the rug before the fire. "Apparently they thought I lacked the compassion to properly relate to girls."

"But you're not callous, that's ridiculous."

His facial response was minimal when it would normally have been maximal. "When checking up on my background they found evidence that I would be."

"What?"

He sighed. "Duantia managed to get hold of my mother's divorce statement. It reads that my father was an abusive man and that he often locked her up in a closet for hours on end." The confused faces stared, "And that I was raised entirely by a man who was 'abusive towards women', is therefore proof that I lacked a proper upbringing and hence the proper 'compassion' required for the job." The room remained silent. "He didn't." He said, "None of that is true."

"What did you say?"

"I demanded the right to defend myself, and my father." He said as Serafina passed him a mug of steaming coffee, "So I told them." He took a sip, "I told them the truth."

Věra leaned in a little, like she wanted to ask him what that was but wasn't rude enough to dare.

"If you want to know." he crossed one leg over the other, glancing at his knee before facing all of them, "My mother was a courtesan." He said frankly, a small ironic smile on his face like he was telling them something sickly-sweet, the words stiffening the air, "A woman of good breeding but rather lacking in morals, shall we say. They married because their parents told them they were going to, as was done in those days." He looked down for a moment, "And while he was at work all day, she would invite rich noblemen to her bed for whatever they would pay her."

Silence. Eliás was not accustomed to shame, only to the solid fact. Why should he be? It was not his shame. He only disliked how some, the very few humans who knew it, thought it was a sin he had to carry for his mother. A beautiful socialite to the public, an upmarket prostitute behind closed doors.

"Do you know?" he asked them, leaning his head on the side of the chair and letting the soft cushioning ease his headache, "There is _scarce_ evidence to suggest that I am even my father's child." More silence. "I haven't got a _clue _who my biological father is, and neither had she." he said, "All I know is that there's not one person with red hair in my mother's family or in my father's."

"_God._.." Věra whispered.

He nodded. "I know." He said, "My father was not an abusive man, not towards her, not towards anybody. He was a doctor, he spent his entire life helping people. He never laid a finger on her. She told him that I was his." He said, briefly picking up a strand of his fringe, "But it quickly became obvious that I wasn't. So, he divorced her when I was two, she lied on the divorce statement to gain financial damages from him, and then she left one night and never came back."

"She left you with your father?"

He nodded. "Trust me, I would rather have been left with him." He said, his eyes softening, "He raised me on his own, even though I wasn't his. Whenever I asked him about all this when I was older he would always tell me that I was his son, no matter whose sperm had got there first." The simple thought brought a smile to his face and almost tears to his eyes, "I was so proud to be his son." He sighed again, "And when I hear those lies believed by intelligent people like Duantia..." he flicked his hand into the air as if it represented the fleetingness he was trying to describe, before falling limply down to his lap again, "It makes me think the world has gone to pot." He sipped from his mug again, "You know..." he shook his head to himself as he gazed into the crackling fire, "I never considered my mother to have any part in my life at all. And suddenly a few lines written a hundred years ago have come back to kick me up the arse."

"I'm sorry." Said Věra, "I can't stand how this all comes down to the same wretched argument."

"I'm a man." He finished emptily.

The heavy sombre note refracted through that stiff air that held all of them in suspense. It was at a time like this that Eliás wished that Friedrich would offer a little of his timeless advice, but even the Horse Master was unable to do anything but sit quietly.

"So what do we do?" asked Věra, her head in her hands.

"I suppose the Council will send us a High Priestess." Said Anděl, "But I don't think there are too many people jumping up and down at the opportunity to come here or learn the language. Replacing Adéla will take a while."

"We need to figure out how scare off these communists otherwise there won't _be_ a House of Night." Said Eliás.

"Goddess I hope Katja arrives safely..." Anděl mused, his face every bit the concerned father's, "Her driver's only bringing her to the end of the street."

So the House of Night was such a paragon of evil now that it was forbidden to go through the gates, even at the expense of a young woman's safety? Eliás felt warmed – Anděl, who in Eliás' fledgling days had always been private, strict, and – not quite cold, but still pretty cool nonetheless. Helping Lýdie raise her Jewish great-nieces, all that were left of her human family, Anděl had unwittingly taken on the role of the girls' father, and actually found that it had suited him. Whereas Lýdie's role had been that of a fun-loving aunt, almost sisterly as opposed to motherly – presumably because she felt it wasn't right to try and replace the girls' real mother – Anděl, having never met the family and never really having had one of his own – his father had been a clergyman –must have been repressing some urge inside him to give children what he had never had himself. Lýdie had often attributed his desire to teach to that. He had taken to the fatherly role like a fish to water, and although he had at first remained oblivious that he had gills, so to speak, he had come to love those girls like their father. Eliás smiled for the first time that day - he knew what a wonderful thing it was for a man to show a father's love towards a child that wasn't theirs. He often wondered if Anděl and Lýdie now missed Díla and Katja now that they had flown the nest.

"Is Katja coming?" asked Friedrich, as brightly as he could for a man who survived on all of four hours of sleep a day.

"Yes, she's staying with us for a while." Said Lýdie, "She wanted to be here for Adéla's funeral but couldn't get the time off university."

"So why isn't Díla also descending upon us in this ungodly time?" asked Eliás.

Lýdie shrugged. "Apparently Katja says she's got news but wants to tell us in person."

"Which means that Díla doesn't want her to tell us." Said Anděl.

"I haven't seen Katja in years... How old would she be now?" Friedrich enquired.

"Twenty-five." Said Anděl, "She looks as old as us now!"

"Hm..." said Lýdie, giving a sly grin, "I think she's been waiting until she's old enough to officially take a shine to you Eliás."

For the first time in a long time, Eliás' expression was truly blank. "Me? She hated me."

"She hated Biology." Lýdie explained, "She only took it because you were teaching it."

"See it's these sorts of things that freak me out, she's just a kid." He said, "What was it, all of five minutes since she came here?"

Anděl nodded. "Yep."

Lýdie flapped a hand at his arm. "Katja's grown up now, she can do what she wants."

Eliás rolled his eyes. "Oh, should I be taking that into consideration?"

* * *

"Dr. Svboda!!!"

As the last of Eliás' Fourth formers filtered out of his classroom for the end of the day and he gathered up his lesson notes, he saw a shadow move across the bleached-white sheets of paper falling through his fingers. He looked over his shoulder and came face to face with a mop of rose-blonde hair and a cheeky grin.

"Katja?" His eyes narrowed. "Is that you?"

She nodded. "Oh yes. I'm back!"

He hadn't seen her since she left the House of Night aged eighteen and gone off to university... So why wasn't she still a child? She was a sad reminder in a way of how time passed for humans. He had known her ever since she was eight, that little girl who came to talk with the Germans during the wartime, yet it was only now he was noticing what a beautiful girl she was, especially for a human...

Whilst diverting himself from that train of thought, he shook himself out of his little trance. "So what are you doing here, voluntarily in the Biology lab?"

Her cheeks flushed pink when she felt his eyes fall on her. "Actually I wish I was just coming here to see you, I was told to bring a message to you."

"Yes?"

"As I walked through the gates the driver of a really fancy car helped me with my suitcases up the steps. He said he was waiting for none other than High Priestess Shekinah and could I please enquire as to her whereabouts? He thought you would know."

"But I thought she had left hours ago." He said, "The other Council members did..."

She raised an eyebrow. "Council members???"

"Long story."

"Well, I hope she turns up, he's been waiting for four hours out there, and it's not like Shekinah to be untimely."

"No it isn't." He said. She had only gone to sort out the land dispute...

His heart stopped.

Oh no.

* * *

**R&R!**


	15. HazChem Code

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Do I need to say it? This is the first chapter where nothing is written, through Eliás, if that makes sense, normally I write through him, his thoughts, his feelings, in this chapter it's all written through other people's. Enjoy! **

**To TeaTime: Sorry I didn't mean you specifically just anyone who might be following... Thank you so much for reviewing it makes writing this fic worthwhile!**

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Duantia leant back on her seat as her car's wheels leapt over pot holes in the road and jarred her back. Too many strange things to deal with. The dark veil covering the car window jolted with the axles, letting in streams of light every time they did so. She hissed as it hit her skin and put her hand to the hem of the fabric to hold it down, closing her eyes. Remembering how Shekinah talked to her for the first time about Dr. Eliás Svboda, she had almost forgotten at the time that they were talking about a man. And so what if he was a man really? Humans had headmasters and headmistresses. But they didn't have women in their Church. The Vampyre Council had tried to keep the vampyre world as parallel to the human one for millennia, and that was the way it had to be. If vampyres wanted to reside in peace with the humans they had to be seen to be upholding the values of the humans. Trial and error had proven long ago that to keep the vampyre world close to the human one was essential for negotiation, politics, and general peace, and since any advancement in the vampyre society was seen as a direct slander on that of the humans, it wasn't worth amplifying the religious war that already existed.

Ordinating a man into Nyx's temple was taken by the human Church as an insult, a feminist remark typical of the matriarchal vampyres: 'we can have men in our Church so why can't you have women in yours?' The humans weren't ready for that, and Duantia certainly wasn't going to open up that can of worms. They would be accepting soon, but not yet. Male vampyres weren't punished into submission as female humans often were, but it was a stereotype, an image that had to be portrayed in order for the mirror reflection to survive. Dr. Svboda's only crime was being ahead of his time.

And it was a pity. Adéla had chosen him specifically, and he certainly was a remarkable young vampyre. It wasn't only Adéla that had chosen him for something great, it was Nyx. And Nyx had gifted him for a reason. Duantia could feel it before she even entered the room with him that day, it was like a buzzing, a whirring that was just above the frequency that vampyre ears could detect, a power that almost made his skin glow, one that multiplied a hundred-fold when his heart stirred. His mind was hard to read too, so many mental defences that could deter even her own affinity, the speed at which is worked was confusing and the jargon it contained had to be waded through to get to what he was thinking, and by that time, he had evaded you. Duantia was sure that he wouldn't be out of place amongst the leaders of his world, that was another thing that would disturb High Priestesses of the Senate – his power was strong and still growing, making him a High Priest could put his foot on the first rung of the ladder, the leg-up he would need for a take-over. In fact, he was so powerful that if he was more ambitious, there was no reason why he couldn't climb the ladder by force. And as much as Duantia didn't believe him morally capable of that, there were other Council members that certainly would.

In all her years, the males having magical affinities she had witnessed she could count on one hand. So when men like Dr. Svboda appeared, no one was really sure what to do with them. And who were they going to send to Prague? Maybe they should send a substitute until the humans accepted women in their Church, and then give Eliás the job. But then what High Priestess wanted to be told she was keeping the seat warm for a man to take over? And all these problems could be solved if the damn man had only been born a century later. And his mother's divorce statement – that was low, especially for Duantia. Whether it was truth or lies she didn't know, but the switch that flicked in that young man's eyes when she brought it up and the fire with which he defended his father pointed to the latter, but even if it was true, it was a hindrance, some would deem it to be shameful, why would anyone not lie about it? And if it was lies? Duantia sighed. The sad truth was, that if she hadn't used that information against him, someone else would have, with graver consequences.

Like she said, too many strange things to deal with.

How far away from Venice were they now anyway? Duantia doubted they were anywhere near the Czechoslovak-Austrian border yet. Tired, she rubbed her temples with her fingers and decided she would reconsider this decision in the near future.

"_Shekinah..."_ she projected her mind out in waves, _"I think this decision needs revising."_

The answer she expected was one of agreement, Shekinah liked Eliás more than she did, she expected a light-heartedness and maybe a 'now you tell me'. But what she received was very different. Her soul went cold to its core.

"_Duantia? Duantia help!!!"_

The Head of the Vampyre Council leant forward and slapped her hand against the piece of glass separating her from her driver. "Turn the car around!!! _Now!!!_"

* * *

The light came on. Antonín Novotný slammed the door to his suite shut behind him and kicked his shoes off aggressively and shrugged off his jacket with a vengeance, glancing gin the gold-framed mirror as he went. Three years in office as the President of Czechoslovakia and he was already beginning to go grey...

"It's about time."

Novotný jumped out of his skin. Sitting in his armchair across the room, sat someone. Sapphire blue lightning strikes across his face. A vampyre... It was that vampyre, the one his government had been chasing for years. This was the one that his predecessor Zápotocký said he had been warned about when he took up office in 1953, the one that could electrocute people. He sat still as a statue, his arms folded and his legs crossed, his face was one of steel. Novotný felt a fury so great he almost burst a blood vessel - he had disliked the idea of cohabiting with the House of Night ever since being elected in, but the President of Czechoslovakia lived in Prague Castle, as the Bohemian Kings had, as well as the vampyres. He never spoke with them, or saw them. Ever. Nor had he the slightest wish to. They were easy enough to avoid, and soon enough, they would be out. His eyes fixed upon the blue markings over the man's face again, branding him dangerous like the HazChem Code.

"You're not supposed to be up here." Growled the president, clutching his hands into fists, "How did you get in here??? Get out!!!"

"I came to speak to you about something important." Said the vampyre, his voice so stern it slid over him like a shiver.

"Well I have nothing to say to you. Now get out before I call security."

"Listen." Said the vampyre, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, "I'd like to talk about High Priestess Shekinah."

Novotný immediately went to grab for the phone, but found that while his mind reached out, his body did nothing. He couldn't move, not from the neck downwards, like something had paralysed him. He was just standing there, his body like a block of ice. The vampyre gave a tiny smirk.

"What did you do to me?"

"I'm giving you the opportunity to come out of this unscathed." He said, "High Priestess Shekinah." He said, raising from the chair and standing right in front of him, his height towering over his own, "Went to discuss our little land issue with your goons today..." his face dropped, "And she didn't, come, back."

He scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

The vampyre sighed, lolling his head to the side for a second. "Now, the vampyres at House of Night aren't looking for trouble with humans. Really. But to others, the kidnapping of the most important person in our society is all the ammunition they need to start a war. It's a little like us abducting the Pope. And such a feat would have to demand a hefty ransom." He said. How was his voice so calm and so vicious? "Now, we have friends, who would gladly tell Nikita Khrushchev in Moscow that you've been putting some away for a rainy day in the form of ransom payments." He folded his arms again and looked him dead in the eye, "So you have a choice. You can tell me where we can find our High Priestess and save yourself a _lot _of trouble. Or, you can cause a war declared by both vampyres and Soviets, starting now, in this very room, with you and I. And I can guarantee, it's a war you won't win."

* * *

"Ssh she's waking up!"

"Leave her alone, Papa said to ignore her."

"Have you seen her face?"

"_Don't_ touch her! She's a heretical nigger-woman!"

"Mama said if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all."

"Well Mama isn't here is she?"

"Ow!"

"Wuss."

Shekinah groaned as the sharpness of air cut into her lungs and all she could focus upon was her diaphragm moving. 'Breathe', her brain told it, and her lungs gulped up the oxygen readily. With the cool sharpness that flooded through her came sensation. She was suddenly aware of her entire body, her limbs stiff and numb, her arms heavy and grazed, her head throbbing painfully above the cold wooden floorboards. She guessed it had not been a very gracious landing.

"Wake up lady."

Something prodded at her arm, and she opened her eyes groggily. She was in some sort of unused office. There was a desk and a chair, a filing cabinet and a sofa, but not a lot else. Everything was done out in dark wood and had a layer of dust over it. The windows were barred. Her eyes focussed onto a little shoe not far away from her, attached to a little leg, attached to a small boy sitting cross-legged next to her, playing contentedly with a little toy fire-engine, occasionally looking down to her, like he was trying to ignore her but couldn't quite. He was only about five or six years old.

She hissed at a sharp pain in the back of her neck, her hand reaching to it gently. Tranq-darted. She could have been out for hours.

"Where am I?" she asked, sitting herself up slowly and dusting herself off, noticing there was another boy all of ten years old sitting on the sofa and fiddling with a sling-shot, ignoring her.

"Wallenstein Palace. Above the Senate House." Said the younger boy, still playing with the toy fire engine, his blond hair so fixed in place that not a strand fell in his eyes as he leant over the engine.

"Aleš!" the older boy chided.

Wallenstein Palace was the place the Council had considered moving the House of Night to after the Duke of Mecklenburg Albrecht Wenzel von Wallenstein was killed in 1634. The place had after all been fashioned entirely on Prague Castle, but simply a smaller version of. It had been decided at the time that the vampyres were to stay in Prague Castle as an upheaval to the entire House would be difficult and the Palace would have to be converted to an extent to house the fledglings as well as classrooms. So the Palace was left in the hands of the state, who now used it as a meeting place for the Czechoslovakian Senate. It was barely off the grounds of the Castle itself.

Shekinah slowly got to her feet and took sure and steady strides to the door, pulling at the handle.

"It's locked." The boy called Aleš called over his shoulder, "We've been trying to get for aaaaages."

She looked around. "You're in here often?"

Aleš nodded, looking a little sad. "Mama is in hospital so Papa makes us stay in here while he's at work."

"Ota Šik." Said the other boy, somewhat proudly, "Minister for Economy."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Hours." Said Aleš, "Days. I dunno, I can't tell the time yet and Štefan won't teach me." The older boy shot his brother a glare, but remained silent and inspected his toy. "But they said we weren't to talk to you."

"Oh." She said, not quite sure how to respond.

"Do you have to draw on your face?"

"What?"

"Your face. Do you draw it on?"

Shekinah chuckled. "No, it's always there."

The boy's face was blank with wonder. "But how does it get there?"

She lowered herself gently onto the other side of the sofa from the older boy, careful to avoid her bruises and biting her lip as she found a few more in doing so. Despite being socially powerful, Shekinah did not possess the magical fire-power required to break down a thick reinforced mahogany door. These office rooms had doors like bank vaults, some politicians' most important work lay behind them in the years before metal reinforcements were thought of. The windows were barred. Two little boys probably armed with the skill of lock-picking and slingshots couldn't get out, which meant that for the moment she was staying put. She might as well indulge them. "It's a gift from my Goddess." She said.

The older boy Štefan snorted. "There's no Goddess." He sneered.

"How do you know?" she asked him.

"There's just God." He said, "My father said you were a heretic."

"It is possible for both to exist." She said, "It's like having a mother, and a father."

Štefan scoffed. "But only one has power."

"That all depends which one you believe has power."

* * *

"W...Where are you taking me???"

"Somewhere where you won't have the chance to flee the country."

"You'll be caught for this you know! You'll be caught and damn-well hung!"

The red-headed vampyre tightened his grip on his arm to the point where it was cutting off his blood circulation and crushing his suit-jacket into creases as he frog-marched him towards the front door of the Castle. He was immensely strong and taller to the point where he was almost lifting him clean off the carpeted floor, and he had left his panic button in his briefcase...

An assembly of yet more vampyres stood at the doors, deep in conversation. Novotný had never seen so many of them at once, all so alluring, so sickeningly perfect. It was that that made them so dangerous. They reminded him of war generals discussing battle tactics. There was a tall dirty-blonde one whom he recognised as the Horse Master Friedrich – known amongst the parliamentarians as 'the Bosch we couldn't get rid of'. Then one even blonder with sky-blue eyes – God he looked like a real charmer - armed with two rapier blades. There were several female vampyres there as well, as well as a... human girl? Pretty girl, he thought, but what on Earth was she doing here??? Her hair came to her shoulder blades but looked untidy, even scruffy rather than anything, green eyes glaring out from underneath her dishevelled fringe, a tan trench-coat wrapped around her frame. Very pretty girl...

"What's she doing here???" Novotný hissed.

"She is our niece." Said the angelic vampyre firmly. Clearly when he spoke he included the rose-blonde female as well. In a relationship, unmarried, and completely unashamed, who did they think they were?

The red-headed vampyre pointed to the girl. "You are not going."

She pushed her fringe out of her eyes. "Dr. Svboda I'm going."

"No you are not Katja."

"I'm not going to let you all go without me."

"It's too dangerous."

She put her hands on her hips. "Oh, and so, I'm the only defenceless one here am I?" she raised one hand and waved it around in a little circle at all the vampyres, "Věra? Aunt Lýdie? Well, you could probably talk them to an early grave... I'm just saying... Serafina, are you going to burst their eardrums with your voice? And Friedrich, are you going to horse them to death?!"

The angelic man and the shorter woman began sniggering.

"Anděl! Edita!" the brunette woman hissed as the two male vampyres pulled back the doors.

"Forget it Katja."

"I'm not your pupil anymore, Dr. Svboda!" she said, her face flushing a hearty pink, "And I'm free to go wherever I wish." He looked at her blankly, and she raised an eyebrow, "You know if you won't let me in the car it will take me ten minutes to run it."

He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Alright, fine." He said, "Come on." The redhead growled. Novotný grunted as he was heaved him by the arm again and marching him to a car that was parked waiting. If he was defeated that easily by a girl the Palace guards would flatten him in seconds. Maybe this didn't require a panic button after all.

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**R&R!**


	16. Ignition

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Hi guys, sorry this has taken kinda a while. I'm not sure if this chap is very good, I'm rubbish at writing action, let me know how I did. Also, let me know what you'd like to happen next, I know vaguely where I'm going but I'm writing it for you guys after all. All ideas and suggestions welcome!**

**I have also now made a video of a dreamcast for this story, and for all my other HON fics. You can find it on YouTube, my username there is Seryphael. Check it out!**

**TeaTime: Danke! Ich hab hier noch n Paar politischen Auswirkungen da die letzten dir gefallen haben, ich denke immer noch an neuen – jedes Mal ich was schreibe kommt was neues in meinen Kopf rein! Und ja Friedrich pferdet ihnen bis zum Tod hahaha! Eliás hat auch noch was damit zu tun... :D **

**Vampireism: Thanks! Hope you like this one! **

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_  
Start it up, turn it on  
We can ride this storm  
A grip of hope in our hands  
For the coming dawn  
Up to our necks in complexities  
Causing us to pause  
As we collect our thoughts_

So don't blink if you wanna come cross the border  
Take a look around or come test the water  
We won't stop 'till we see the morning  
So welcome to the quiet before the storm hits

_Ignition, tobyMac._

* * *

The car doors slammed shut. Eliás, who was still reluctant to let Novotný out of his sight, let his eyes scan for guards and police. There would be some, and they were staying hidden for now. CCTV was a more likely predicament. He closed his eyes and concentrated, pressing his fingers to his right temple gently. There was a gentle buzzing in the air, again barely above the frequency of vampyre ears and well above that of human ears.

"What are you doing?" asked Edita as she fiddled with her long sleeves.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Disabling the Palace CCTV cameras."

There were bright flashes and sparks exploded from under several window ledges of the building before them, tumbling lightly over the cars on the pavement like a mist of glowing golden raindrops.

Eliás felt a prick of happiness at his success and looked to the president. "Mr. Novotný." He said, indicating with his hand towards the front door and the small intercom box near the doorbell, "If you would be so kind?"

The little man in a big man's suit gawped at Eliás, before puffing his chest out like a robin on a winter's morning. "You must think I'm insane!" He shouted.

Eliás stomached this response with relative ease. Casting his gaze over the road before him, he held his hand in the air and poised his fingers ready to snap. Which one...? He snapped.

A car bearing the communist hammer and sickle flags from the wing mirrors flew sky high, flames engulfing it in a horrible shrieking sound as the metal screamed. The sight was something akin to Bonfire Night or a volcano eruption, the sheer force of the explosion burning nearby cars and setting off their alarms, pieces of shrapnel falling from the sky clattering to the ground.

"Woah woah woah!!!" Novotný screamed, pushing himself to the back of the group, "What the Hell was that???"

"You're right Mr. Novotný." Said Eliás, holding up his fingers ready to snap again, "I do think you're insane."

The flames of the car-wreckage reflected in Novotný's eyes, as well as a spark of fear, disbelief plastered over his features. After a moment, he closed his fallen jaw, and tensed his lips for a moment as if he were going to burst out in rage at Eliás, but he seemed to think better of it at the last minute and tugged on the hems of his suit jacket proudly and cleared his throat. Giving the vampyres a death glare, he strode towards the intercom box.

He made an irritated face as his thumb pressed the grey button. "This is President Novotný, open the door."

"We've no authorisation to open the doors sir, the CCTV circuits have blown."

Novotný finally snapped. "_Damn it __Nožička open the God-damned door_!!!"

There was a pause. "Yes sir."

There was a clicking sound, and Novotný lunged for the door handle, darting inside the door and trying to pull it shut behind him. What he hadn't known was that Anděl was behind him before he even spoke, his iron grip around the door and pulling it open against Novotný's flailing grasp. Pulling the door wide and holding it open for the others like the gentleman he was, Anděl pulled his blade from the scabbard and held the tip at Novotný's throat.

"What is this?" he asked, all too aware of the cold steel on his flesh, "I'm the President of Czechoslovakia, you _can't_ slit my throat!"

Anděl's eyes sharpened like daggers. "I was all for slitting it before we got here." he squared up to the human man in a fluid motion, "Run again," he said, tapping the man beneath the chin, "And I won't be as patient as Dr. Svboda."

* * *

Review?

Shekinah relayed all the facts and probabilities that Duantia had just filled her head with through the forefront of her mind once again. How long would it get to send them a High Priestess? There were none in the Czechoslovakian state, however maybe they could look further afield in countries whose languages were mutually intelligible with Czechoslovakian? Not only would that cause a political uproar, but it was a long measure. Should they wait for change and then let him? Change, Shekinah knew, was only socially acceptable if the humans came up with the idea first. Although despite Duantia's idea that the humans would take it as a direct insult that the vampyres were instigating change in their society, Shekinah wasn't so sure. The purely matriarchal hierarchy the vampyres had maintained since the dawn of time had been the cause of disputes since before anyone alive could remember. As opposed to taking offence at the appointment of a man into that post, she actually thought that they might take it as a victory. One point to them. She guessed they would rather rub it into the Councils' faces rather than protest at something they considered a normality. But then again how many vampyres would want humans rubbing anything in their faces?

Shekinah took a moment briefly to think of Adéla. The woman wasn't cold in her grave and already her design was going to pot. Adéla never feared change. She never feared being different, and never gave a damn about what anyone else thought, and Shekinah would rather remain imprisoned by these humans than see Adéla's entire life's work in their hands. Did that mean that she had decided then?

It did leave her with only the one option.

Voices and heavy booted footsteps just about sounded through that thick reinforced door. The two boys raised their heads.

"What's going on?" asked Aleš warily.

Shekinah heard a key turning in the lock, and waited with baited breath. The door opened to reveal three armed guards all dressed in black shortly followed by a very bald tubby man wearing a dark grey suit. The armed men grabbed Shekinah like she was a stuffed toy and marched her towards the door, one on each arm, and one pointing a gun at her head.

"Boys I need you to stay in here." The man in the suit said. His panic was such that Shekinah suspected that his hair had fallen out over the space of the past five minutes.

"But why?"

"Stay in here!" he demanded, shutting the door behind him as the armed men pulled Shekinah roughly by the arms. She sighed. This was either going to be kill or cure.

The man with the gun took his eye off his target for a moment to glance at his boss. "What do you want us to do with her Sir?"

"They've come for her..." said Sik, visibly trembling and running his fingers beneath his tie to loosen it.

"With all due respect Sir you should have thought of that before."

"Novotný let them in."

"They've got Novotný?" the guard pulled a face, "Then why not trade them Sir?"

"Because..." Sik loosened his tie and growled, "It's not Novotný I want from them... It's Svboda."

"Svboda will kill us!"

"No. No, he won't..." said the small shaking man, gulping and starting to sound harsher, "None of the casualties he's returned to us have been terminally injured. He doesn't kill he hasn't got the balls."

"Whether or not a man kills is quite dependent on the situation Sir, and if he has a choice between our lives and hers..." he jerked at Shekinah's arm, "You know what he'll choose."

"We can't control Svboda while they have a hostage, there's one person too many in this game." He said, finally dominating his trembling, "Shoot Novotný."

* * *

Eliás listened as hard as he could as they entered the foyer of the Palace – a grand piece of architecture, granted, but lit only by the moonlight falling through the kaleidoscope-like glass dome atop the middle of the room it had the appearance of a sinister mansion. He listened to the sound of the soles of his shoes tapping against the smooth marble floor and looked around.

"Where is everybody?" asked Katja, stuffing her hands deep into her raincoat pockets.

"To presume there were people here would be to presume that politicians work late." Eliás retaliated.

She blew her fringe out of her eyes. "Well naturally."

"They know we're here." Scoffed Věra, "Where's the firing squad?"

Out of the murky depths of the shadows came the clicking of rifles, the sound bouncing off the stone walls in an echo.

Eliás blinked. "Found it." he said, raising one eyebrow and taking a step forward. Ordering his thoughts, he began to place electric fields around them like a dome, focussing more and more to strengthen them to the point where they would halt a bullet carrying the opposite electrostatic charge. Controlling it was difficult, exposing people to that kind of charge was dangerous, he had to make sure that it was strong at the centre but wasn't harmful. Nearly there...

A shot sounded. Eliás super-charged the shield to block it, but he was too late. Horrifyingly, he heard someone crumple to the ground behind him and blood spurting onto the marble floor. He turned, and his face dropped. They had shot Novotný? Did these people need several attempts? How could they shoot their own president? The man was sprawled on the floor, where Friedrich and Věra were trying desperately to curb the bloodflow pouring from the man's stomach.

"Have you actually lost your minds?" he said into the darkness, strengthening the shield again to full impenetrability. "Do you really think murder will resolve this???"

"It does if you did it."

A nasty voice sounded from the shadows. Narrowing his eyes, Eliás was just about able to make out figures at the top of the stairs leading to the Senate House high circle. Still concentrating on his shield, he extended his mind into the various charges and metals around the room, and on finding a long thin one, tripped the metal in the light switch, sending the electric chandeliers blinking into life.

He knew that little bald man, the one that looked as if he desperately needed a shower from either shivering or sweating constantly. That was Ota Šik, the economy minister, the one who had sent the letter to Adéla and many more to him. He had seen the man in newspapers and on the television, but never real time. Eliás had always had him down as the backseat-dictator. The one who appeared to be doing nothing but by sucking up to more successful men held the country wrapped around his little finger. Sik had become more prominent in the past few years, there was no doubt, but what was the man doing meddling in the military side of the government? There was the political side which involved long boring meetings, senates, lots of paperwork and bad ideas, and then there was the military side which put these bad ideas into action, by any means they saw fit. It was entirely another ball game. It was poorly regulated at the best of times, and the Soviets in Moscow controlled everything right down to the style of shoes the soldiers wore. Anything like this, blackmail, kidnapping, extortion, happened behind closed doors, every single day. Sik was just a government body, a legal threat, because the military had been sent home defeated so many a time.

"Give us Shekinah." Said Eliás, making sure that Sik could see the lightning bolts crackling over his hands.

His stomach churned. This wasn't him. He didn't threaten people like this, at least not in cold blood, even if Sik was a slimy communist. Eliás hated the fact that he wanted this man hurt. He wanted him to pay for what he'd done, for taking Shekinah, for destroying the country and reducing it to a pawn on the Soviets' chessboard, for all the people who had lost their lives in the process. And Eliás had always been of the opinion that he hadn't saved lives to then go and take them. He wasn't a pacifist, he did genuinely believe that some people should die for their evil doings, but he didn't want it to be by his hand. It felt like shooting himself in the foot.

"Or you'll do what?" he asked, "It'll be a toss-up you know, to which is faster, our bullets or your lightning."

If only the guard pointing his gun at Shekinah would miss if he fired... Vampyres could survive many things, but a bullet to the brain wasn't one of them. "I won't ask you again."

"You have no trade to offer." He said, narrowing his eyes, "You know what it is I want, Svboda."

He did, but he also wasn't a fool. Sik knew that to release Shekinah after he had complied and began working for them would be madness, there would be nothing to keep him there. That wouldn't be the price. Giving himself over would guarantee Shekinah's safety only, not her freedom. Novotný was useless now...

Eliás looked at Shekinah. Strong and proud, she didn't even so much as look at the gun aimed in her direction. Her eyes were on them. Her eyes met his for a moment, and he had an idea.

Shekinah blinked and made a seizing sound, her arms suddenly struggling against those of the guards. She started coughing madly, spluttering and choking, her knees buckling, leaving her hanging limp between them. Her face crumpled with pain and a weak attempt at a scream refracted through her lips into a groan and her eyes fell shut as the guards lowered her to the floor.

He heard a wave of gasps and shrieks from behind him, and suddenly he felt himself moving backwards. It took a split second to realise that it was not him that was moving backwards, but everyone around him that was moving forwards. Eliás could feel the shock like a clamminess on his skin from them, followed by a shiver at what could happen if they stepped through the shield. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Anděl begin to move, anger flashing in his eyes as his usual restraint buckled.

"No!" he shouted, holding out his arm, "Don't!" But Eliás was not physically stronger than Anděl, and the Swordmaster pushed past him with ease. "Stop!" he shouted to all of them.

"What's happening?" Sik demanded, barely taking his eyes off them. Pulling a pistol out of the hands of the nearer guard he fired several shots at the approaching vampyres. Eliás was only just fast enough to stop them before they impaled their chests and seized Anděl by the arm, glaring at him profusely. It didn't matter how many of them wanted to help her, he wasn't losing anyone else. Sik paused for a moment, watching the bullets with a twisted curiosity, his chest rising and falling faster and faster. His fear reflected in the next succession of bullets that he fired, only to meet the same electromagnetic barrier, a few of the hitting various ornaments adorning the scarce foyer due to Sik's shaking hand.

Eliás extended his concentration outside of the field to see the first guard put his fingers to her pulse and the back of his hand close to her nose and remained silent for about twenty seconds. Even when he spoke it was muffled and distorted from the noise from the sharp background noise.

"She's not breathing Sir..." Eliás heard as the guard pressed his fingers to her limp wrist, "Looks like she had a heart attack..."

"Impossible!!!"

"Still no pulse Sir."

Sik seemed to know what that meant. "Shoot them!" he shrieked, clinging onto the banister rail like it was a bar between him and them.

The bullets became visible as they hit Eliás' shield of electromagnetic fields like someone had waved their hand and they had been stopped in time. Glowing like fireflies with the charge required for electrostatic repulsion they hung in the air like fairy lights from a distance, but close up they looked more like the contents of a nuclear reactor than an adornment. Raising his hand, Eliás conjured waves in the air and charge in the guns, before dropping it, slamming a huge telekinetic force against the weapons and sending them flying out of the hands of the guards and against the far wall, bullets flying everywhere and ricocheting off the walls as they made vain attempts to hang onto them. This time, Eliás didn't stop Anděl, Friedrich or Edita as they lunged up the steps to tackle the guards to the floor, while Věra and Lýdie desperately tried to revive Shekinah. Without warning, Sik turned around and slammed his hand into Věra's neck, lifted her clean up off the floor and throwing her into a large framed painting on the wall behind her, so hard that the mounting behind the canvas cracked and splinters showered into the carpet. Eliás wasn't sure if he saw his fringe falling in his eyes or if he had actually seen red, but the thick bolts of sheer white lightning that sprung from his palms and straight into the politician came before he could stop them. Thrown back into the wall, he crumpled to the floor, groaning and coughing up blood. There was a smell of burning flesh and a dust arising from within the cracks of the plaster, and Eliás heard quiet sobs as Lýdie began to give up her attempts as resuscitation. He didn't have a lot of time left.

Sik was conscious, too conscious, for Eliás liking. He had decided he wasn't going to kill him, but he definitely wanted to hospitalise him at the very least, a coma maybe, then he couldn't do any more damage. He raised his hand again and looked down at the little man, who had begun to sweat again, as was becoming clear by the smell. Sik's eyes darted around in panic, and then finally fixed themselves on something to his left.

Eliás followed the man's dagger-like stare off to the left, down the pitch dark corridor and behind one of the grand marble pillars. Two little boys had their heads poked out from behind the block of stone. His eyes could probably make them out even better than Sik's could, and they were frightened. The older boy was pushing at the younger one, trying to shove him behind the pillar and out of sight, but couldn't quite tear his own eyes away. Eliás looked back to Sik and bit his lip, annoyance on his face. The bolts on his hand died.

He couldn't rob those boys of their father.

* * *

**R&R!**


	17. Action Potential

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Have taken inspiration from one of my favourite authors Jodi Picoult. A story is not just one story; it is several different ones, one for each character. Even seemingly minor ones that remain ignored in a 'main-stream' story, so I'm gonna have a shot at trying to write like that. Let's see how it goes...**

**BTW, an action potential is the difference in charge over a nerve cell membrane, it's a fraction of a nerve impulse.**

* * *

_An old man turned ninety-eight,  
He won the lottery and died the next day,  
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay,  
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late,  
And isn't it ironic... don't you think?_

_It's like rain on your wedding day,  
It's a free ride when you've already paid,  
It's the good advice that you just didn't take,  
Who would've thought... it figures._

"_Ironic", by Alanis Morissette._

* * *

_Guard_

* * *

Right back when I was a kid, far far _far _too long ago, I actually used to think that people were like those state-of-the-art animations that sometimes got played on the television, if you were lucky enough to have one. Where a one ton weight could drop on your head as you walked down the street, and you could just peel yourself off the concrete and carry on like nothing had ever happened. It was the attitude I took with me right through school, and the barracks, in fact it was probably why I ended up in the barracks in the first place.

The brutal nature of these cartoons never really occurred to me. I suppose one might say there were outlandish, absurd, made simply for the purpose of making five year-olds laugh. The crude baptism arrived when we were dispatched as part of an offensive team to Prague Castle, a good eight years ago now. It was extremely awkward attacking a building that also happened to be the home of the president, our commanding officer abruptly informed us that who answered the door depended entirely on when you knocked.

Two vampyres stepped out from behind the huge doors. Only two. One to stand and watch, one to wreak havoc.

Vampyres, despite the taboo, were not rarities in Prague, this being home to the biggest house of a single coven. It was fairly normal to pass one in the street, but God so help you if you brushed shoulders with one. A one ton weight may actually fall on your head, metaphorically, maybe even literally if you were unlucky. This one in particular. Men supposedly couldn't do magic, but stories of this one echoed far and wide. Electrical equipment and metal went haywire, and you just knew it was him that was doing it. I'd seen pictures of him, from years ago, and he looked no different to what he looked now. If he could do magic, did that mean he forfeited the normal male vamp abilities, super-strength and agility? So often I'd just longed to tackle him to the ground, just to see if that were the case. All of the lads did. Whether or not that was because he was a vamp, or because the fact that he could kill us with a wave of a hand and we couldn't so much as touch him landed a huge blow to our egos.

Red was standing over Sik – Sik... You couldn't find a bigger arse on the backside if a sumo wrestler if you tried, nor a bigger coward throughout the whole of France. No matter, his money was as good as anyone else's, we figured. Although, for all the trouble he's worth, I wouldn't mind if Red did knock him off.

"It looks like your lucky day." He said, as he stood tall, overbearing the little man on the floor, "But heed this warning now." He said firmly, conjuring as much venom as he could, "I don't ever want to see you again, I don't ever want to hear from you or of you again. And if you even ever so much as show your grubby little face in our lives again, you'll regret you ever set foot in them."

As I watched him, I felt more and more pissed by the second, to the point where I wanted to wring his neck. Here we were, quivering like bloody idiots, and there he was, peeling himself off the pavement after surviving something fatal, heroically lifting the one ton weight, biceps bulging, throwing it right back at us, the damn thing turning into a fireball as it went.

* * *

_Katja_

* * *

I sighed. Even though it didn't take a genius to work out that I was in way over my head and standing here like a lemon, it struck me hard that I hadn't figured this out the moment I was told to stay at the Castle.

I felt immensely foolish, foolish because I was just standing here like a lemon, foolish because I was being a burden, another body they had to shield, foolish to have thought that I could possibly have had an impact on today's events. I was far too small, and yet only a few minutes ago I was so sure that my being here would make a difference. The only thing that made me feel any better about this was that I would have almost certainly felt worse if I had left my family to go in without me.

It's ironic how Aunt Lýdie, the one my family cast out and forgot about as if she had never existed was the only one left who was there for us at the end of the day. Anděl and she taught Díla and I more about life than a state education could ever afford. Each and every one of them I knew as my family. But even though I knew too damn well that when I got into that car that my presence, as always, was about as useful as the opposition's guns, and now this sounds awful, I know, but, I really wanted to be seen to be supporting them. I really wanted Dr. Svboda to see me.

I never understood how such a beautiful vampyre could stay unattached for so long, and I had known him since I was eight years old. When Anděl and Aunt Lýdie finally let me take classes with the fledglings in my teens and I somehow ended up in Vampyre Biology – God only knows why, as ninety-nine percent of it was irrelevant to me – and I kinda found I liked watching him for fifty minutes every night of the week. The more I learnt about him, the worthier person I realised he was. If you want to date good-looking guys, then the House of Night is the place to enrol. You won't find a bigger group of pretty boys this side of the Atlantic Ocean, and as the little human girl, I was usually first on the menu, I mean, list... I actually though he was a genuine person. And so I kept going back, even though I both hated Biology and was rubbish at it. And then I found myself on my way back here for the holidays, leaning my head against the rickety glass of the taxi, unable to sleep because I couldn't stop wondering whether or not I was old enough, mature enough, pretty enough for him yet.

I'm studying German at university. Not always welcome on all ears, given our relatively recent relations with Germany, so why exactly it is I chose it when I mention it is something that I get asked a lot, especially when I already speak it. I don't ever tell them the real reason behind it. You see... I'm the little girl. The little sister, the little human. I'm the bottom figure on the totem pole, always. Even now it's perfectly normal for people to talk across me when I'm speaking, to ignore me or simply fail to acknowledge that I exist. That day when I walked into the Infirmary with nothing better to do and asked him if I could talk to the wounded Germans, and he let me, it was just a little piece of respect, a tiny slither of something that I was good for, something he had given me. Of course I wasn't wandering down to the Infirmary with ulterior motives aged ten, but it was something that I've looked back on ever since. It was my strength, and I was determined to build upon it.

Honestly, I haven't thought about how I'm going to get myself out of this yet. Even when you think you're over someone, you continue to think about them every day, even if just for a moment, and then you think about all the possibilities, the 'could-have-beens', what if this had happened, what if he had seen you before at your best, or even at your worst, and then seen just what a great person you were to be with. And then you would realise that your head was getting carried away for the one-trillionth time and you would think about all the justifications that have run through your head a million times before as to why it would never have worked out in the first place. At university, I thought I had forgotten about him, or at the very least, grown out of childish fantasies. I kept reminding myself that crushes were normal, and then it came down on me that crushes on vampyres were not. I think it was because I was jealous of my sister that this had come back with such a force.

She's getting a little old to marry, admittedly, but that hasn't stopped her. And that's actually the reason I'm even back at the House of Night. Díla actually told me to break the news, she and her fiancé – what's his name...? – are having problems travelling up here and since they didn't want to repeat the formalities over and over and I was due to arrive here first, to her it was the obvious thing to do. I found it really difficult of think of her as someone else's wife, someone's mother, her life was perfect. We were like an eclipse, my sister and I. Except we were both suns, the bigger, older one covering up the other. I only had to figure out what I had to do to not be eclipsed out for good.

Shine brighter.

It was at that moment, right then, when I watched the bolts in Dr Svboda's hands flicker into nothingness, his red hair, a deep rich shade of sangria, emanating passion and fury while his dark grey eyes, cool and soothing, calming and reassuring to anyone who feared his power, that I learnt something about myself. It wasn't even a good thing. My heart sank as I began to understand why. With myself, only attracting attention with eccentricity, was I attracted to him because he was different? Because, I inwardly sighed, it would bring the limelight back onto me? Would it give me power? A place?

I wiped my thoughts clean. I never had designs on him, never, I _never _wanted him for his power. Only for mine, maybe, but it wasn't an intention I had had. It hadn't been what I was thinking about when his knowing gaze and sharp wit, not to mention his good looks, hooked me line and sinker.

Maybe it was a way of justifying myself, a way of telling myself that it still might work, even though he couldn't give me children or grow old with me. It didn't change anything. It didn't change that he was a vampyre and I wasn't, it didn't change how I wished I knew what it felt like to be in his arms. My eyes watched him turn away from that little politician, take three slow steps, giving a wave of his hand so tiny that it was barely visible. The human men collapsed to the ground.

* * *

_Eliás_

* * *

Although all of the heart's cells have the ability to generate the electrical impulses, or 'action potentials', that trigger cardiac contraction. The sinoatrial node normally initiates it, simply because it generates impulses slightly faster than the other areas with pacemaker potential. Cardiac myocytes, like all muscle cells, have refractory periods following contraction during which additional contractions cannot be triggered, their pacemaker potential is overridden by the sinoatrial or atrioventricular nodes. In the absence of extrinsic neural and hormonal control, cells in the sinoatrial node, situated in the upper right corner of the heart, will naturally discharge (create action potentials) at about sixty to a hundred beats per minute. If the sinoatrial node does not function, or the impulse generated in the sinoatrial node is blocked before it travels down the electrical conduction system, a group of cells further down the heart will become the heart's pacemaker. These cells form the atrioventricular node, which is an area between the atria and ventricles, within the atrial septum. If the atrioventricular node also fails, Purkinje fibres are capable of acting as the pacemaker. The reason Purkinje cells do not normally control the heart rate is that they generate action potentials at a lower frequency than the atrioventricular or sinoatrial nodes. It makes the heartbeat almost undetectable.

Shekinah was cold – I didn't need to touch her skin to know it. I turned around, away from those men, I tried to walk away. I truly did want to believe that they wouldn't try again, that they wouldn't stab me in the back. It took me no time at all to realise that was wrong, and split seconds too long to do anything about it. I flicked my hand out to the side discreetly, and listened as their limp bodies crumpled to the floor. I had long mastered the ability to incur sleep, but I still hadn't mastered the ability to kill even if I had mastered the necessity. I felt anger flare up inside me – a very annoying Neanderthal urge. It wasn't that I couldn't, it was that I wouldn't. The burden of knowledge, especially of oneself was a startlingly heavy one. More fire raged in my head, burning away at my reason like oxygen. For not the first time now I was feeling this urge to kill, as if it would add to my credibility. This urge wasn't coming out of hatred for my enemy, that I knew, I am not one to obviously dislike, there are many ways more efficient than to run screaming and charging with a pathetically blunt dinner knife. Disturbingly, I found it was coming out of a fierce craving to prove myself. To prove to them that I could kill, that I was capable of fighting like a man. If there was one thing I hated on this Earth, it was incompetence, and if I let them live I was incompetent as warrior, as a vampyre, and if I killed them I was incompetent as a civilised being. The incompetence I most loathed above anything else, of course, was my own.

Novotný was long dead, blood leaking from his wound, ebbing like water falling from a bottle neck, his eyes open eerily and his arms twisted at all manner of strange angles. I can't say I liked the man, although I can't say I wanted him killed in this fight either. Least not for his death, there were a million other reasons why being the cause of the death of the president was not such a marvellous thing. Sik, when he woke up, would definitely try to pin the blame on my lapel. I could hear Lýdie crying, and something sent a shock through my own system. What the Hell was I doing? Another damn incompetence of which I was guilty, and I was fairly sure that the Vampyre Council would not be letting me off lightly on this one. Whilst I briefly wondered whether or not there was a jail sentence for this kind of thing, I knelt down by her side and felt for the neural pathways in Shekinah's heart. The Purkinje fibres were weakening in their pulse now – you see the heart is not controlled by the brain, not entirely at least, otherwise brain-dead people would not be able to survive on ventilators. The heart has its own system of electrical conduction it carries on beating no matter what the brain says. The sinoatrial node and atrioventricular nodes, thrived on the minute changes in polarisation in the neural membranes, very slowly taking over from the exhausted Purkinje fibres, Shekinah's heart, full of almost completely deoxygenated blood, began to pump just a little bit more.

"She's going to be fine." I said. Lýdie looked at me through red eyes, as did all of the others, as if I were some kind of oracle. Like I was claiming to be able to bring people back from the dead. I concentrated, only hoping to Nyx that her brain hadn't suffered from too much oxygen deprivation. "You underestimate her."

Her expression didn't change. "I don't understand."

"We need to get her to the Infirmary."

Serafina looked at her, fists shaking. "She's dead Eliás."

"Like Romeo thought Juliet was dead?" I replied, "Look where that got him."

"What?" asked Věra, shrugging her shoulders at me in a very sarcastic gesture, "Is she just, faking it then?"

"She's not." I said, "I am."

* * *

_A traffic jam when you're already late_  
_A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break  
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife  
It's meeting the man of my dreams  
And then meeting his beautiful wife._

_And isn't it ironic...don't you think?_

_A little too ironic... and, yeah, I really do think..._

* * *

_**R&R!**_


	18. Wrestling with Swans

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Health and Safety warning. Swans are dangerous.**

* * *

_Eliás_

* * *

"_The heart is controlled by bioelectromagnetic impulses."_ I had said.

There is a swan on the window sill.

I'm not sure how it got there.

But it is there just the same.

And I had a lot of explaining to do.

My hands didn't so much as quiver as I placed a saline IV into Shekinah's hand and drew up some glucose solution into a syringe. I pushed the needle through the plastic flesh of the next bottle cap with a discreet vengeance and turned the bottle upside down on the needle. We had supplies of blood here, for medical reasons. We can buy it from human authorities or we can source it ourselves, either way, it has to go through a filtering process. If we inject it intravenously, not only does it have to correspond to the recipient's blood type, it has to be completely antigen free. Normal human red blood cells (and vampyre red blood cells, but ours are a little different) present a specific antigen on the outside of their cell walls. Our white blood cells produce antibodies which identify foreign antigens, those on bacteria cells. This is what constitutes our immune system. Now for vampyres, this is much more. The antigen presenting on the outside of the red blood cells determines if we imprint with someone, to what extent and how. How our antibodies react with the antigen. Of course between humans this would be lethal if blood cells weren't completely digested in their stomachs. To ensure no imprinting or dare I say it unwelcome sexual displays occurred, all blood bottled for injection was treated with a biological enzyme to catabolise the antigen molecules. Using my thumb and forefinger, I pulled the plunger of the syringe back and watched as the swirls of red descended into the colourless glucose and slowly turn it a light pink colour. I had to count to ten before I looked for a vessel in her arm – I didn't want to slam this into her vein. As much as Shekinah had got herself into this mess, it wasn't her fault she ended up here.

Nodes clasped to her skin in various places measured the beating of her heart. How much damage I had done was unknown – it had not been that long, had it? The heart had to be restarted slowly, so the body wouldn't recognise that I even had anything to do with it. The pulse was strong now, but restarting the heart wasn't the half of it.

"_The heart is controlled by bioelectromagnetic impulses..."_

It had started to rain, and it was the only thing that broke through the silence. No one has so much as uttered a word to me since we had arrived back here, be that for lack of words or lack of preference. Even Friedrich had sat perfectly motionless in the car, staring blankly into the back of the passenger seat, occasionally clenching his jaw, not sure how to voice his opinion, or even to organise it. I had said it in one sentence, one blow, and that was all it had taken to explain everything. It would be my fault and my fault alone if Shekinah died now.

She wasn't going to die, that much was obvious to me, but explaining that to everyone else was not so easy. Had it been anyone else, _anyone _else, but the High Priestess of all vampyres, it would have been a moment of glory as opposed to awkwardness. It was, a daring thing but not a rash one. That would come to them in a few minutes.

The swan on the castle window sill picked at its snowy white plumage and shook its head. Of course the window wasn't open, this was an Infirmary for Christ's sakes, so as this huge bird sat there and ruffled its feathers, we could hear the sound of them hitting the glass pane like a muffled clinging. I briefly wondered what it was even doing there, its blank orange-beaked face looking back at me.

"I apologise." I said finally, knocking the silent sea of faces around me out of their stupor, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I could do that." The truth is, I had no idea what I could do. The more I studied and learnt about how bioelectromagnetism worked, the greater effect my power could have, and the more scientific advances were made, the more I could study. There was always more, I couldn't even count the ways I could use my affinity.

"We don't mind that Eliás." the level-headed Horsemaster said, "We just didn't know you were going to do that." He looked at me from the side, his smirk turning into a small smile, "But we understand why you had to do that."

And suddenly the attention was off me, and onto Friedrich. I felt a wave of gratitude. If he could break the ice, I would be fine. The best metaphor for me had always been a swan. Of all the things a swan could be described as, elegant, strong, defensive; those I would be proud of, of course there are others such as vicious, antisocial and mechanically futile. It was ironic, something about giving an impression of elegance and cool above the water whilst paddling furiously underneath.

'_Thank you_' I mouthed to him.

"You know Duantia's outside." He said, "She wants to see you."

I took a breath and nodded. "Okay..." I said. His intuition was still the most impressive out of all of us, even Adéla, "Um, could you send her in after a few minutes, I just need to find some injectable, well, caffeine."

"For her?" asked Serafina vacantly.

"No, for me." I said sweetly, making my tiny wink just about visible to them, leaving them in disarray as to whether or not I was being sarcastic.

Friedrich smiled. "C'mon." He said, jerking his head in the direction of the door to the others, "We'll send her in."

I turned my back and waited until I heard the sticky catch of the double doors against their rubber stoppers and their footsteps dimming down the hall. Another tapping on the window.

"Veronika?" I shouted.

"Yes?" came the reply.

"Why is there a swan at the window?"

She appeared from around the corner. "Thing's been there all day." She said, dumping down a bundle of clean sheets on the bed next to Shekinah's, "Flew into the window earlier."

Walking over to that window and listening to the rain pouring, I immediately felt propelled to feel sorry for the creature. I sighed. I'd have to be insane to bring an animal into a sterile hospital environment.

I opened the window and braced myself against the gust of wind and grabbed the thing's neck as it went for my arm – swans can be a little violent – and bundled the rest of it into my right arm, smearing dirt and muck all over my front. Leaning against the shoulder, I waited for the click of the latch. The feathers of its right wing were ruffled, and as I ran my fingers over it, the swan thrashed and red smears came away onto my rubber gloves. God this thing was heavy... Taking it under my right arm, I walked back over to Veronika's clean sheets and pulled them open with my left.

"_What in Nyx's name do you think you're doing_???" she shrieked.

I wrapped the bird up in the sheets, one so that it couldn't flail and flap at me and two so that I could concentrate more on its beak, which by the way was sharp and had already torn holes in my lab tunic, not to mention my skin.

"I'm just going to take it to a veterinary surgeon..." I said, gathering up my bundle, still holding the head at arm's length. The door opened.

"Dr. Svboda..." It was Duantia. She looked at me, something between disgust and wonder. She tilted her head to the side. I swallowed, and smiled. "You know what?" she said, "I'm not even going to ask."

* * *

_Duantia_

* * *

Standing there watching Dr. Eliás Svboda holding a swan swaddled in linen - you might have thought it were a human child had it not been for its long neck and head sticking out from the bundle – I learnt two things. Firstly, never trust this man to do or to be anything remotely normal. Secondly, swans are capable of inflicting grievous bodily harm. As he held its head away from him, I wasn't sure whether or not the blood he was covered with was its' or his own.

"Do I even want to know?" I said, raising an eyebrow and putting my hands on my hips. He shook his head. "Having a career change, veterinary medicine appealing to you now?"

He took a breath. "I suppose you know." He said, his eye-contact not breaking despite still having to wrestle with the swan.

I did. I didn't need someone to tell me to know what transpires. Quite honestly I wasn't sure whether to regard his actions as ingeniousness or insanity. "You've caused quite a stir."

He raised both eyebrows at me in faked innocence. "Have I?"

I cut to the chase. "How long until she wakes up?"

"Until whenever she feels like it." he said, flipping his stethoscope around his neck with his free hand, "Could be minutes could be weeks. But she's stable and responding well to treatment."

"An induced a cardiac arrest." I said, leaning against the end of her bed with my left hand, "I have to say Eliás. You are the only person who would ever think to, or ever even dare to do this. And there was a very real possibility that you could have killed her." I looked at my friend, and back to him, remaining grim, "But in the end, you, managed to save all of us, Nyx only knows how."

"Novotný is dead." He said simply. "I didn't want that."

"You did what you had to. The point is Eliás, it came down to Novotný or us. That's what killing is." I stood perfectly still, "And you let Sik go."

There was a silence. "I did."

"Eliás." I said, "I've had enough playing games with you. Quite frankly you deserve better." He looked at me, swan under a tight grip, "I want to make you the High Priest of the Prague House."

"I appreciate your support." He said, "But as we both know the decision is not yours alone."

"No." I glanced at Shekinah, "But I think she would agree." I clasped my hands in front of me, "You have proven that you can protect and look after your family. I wish to, sympathise, for how I dealt with this before." I said, wringing my hands, "I raised some, rather inappropriate and irrelevant topics. The fact of the matter is that if I hadn't raised those objections someone else would have done and that would have carried grave consequences. Whilst I cannot apologise for my actions, even though I may wish to, I would like to acknowledge any discomfort they may have caused you."

"You did your job." He said, "Thank you." I stood forward to shake his hand. He began to extent it, and both of us looked at the grime covering his medical glove. "On second thought, maybe later." He said.

"Go and find a veterinary surgeon then, and get that damned thing out of the Infirmary before we all catch the avian influenza."

* * *

"_Christ I'm so tired..."_

Eliás collapsed onto his bed. Finally. Finally... The softness of the mattress welcomed him with open arms, his eyes tingled, sleep cried out to him. Three days without sleep had left him ready to drop.

There was a knock on the door.

_God..._

The door opened.

"Hi..." a sweet voice came. "How are you?"

Eliás turned his cheek against the crisp duvet so that he could see. Smiling, he heaved himself up into a sitting position. "Katja?" he asked, wiping his eyes, "What are you doing here?"

She grinned, standing there in white pyjamas, pushing the door closed behind her. "I just wanted to say congratulations." She said, "You've accomplished something amazing."

"And that fact that I nearly killed Shekinah in the process doesn't bother you?"

"Way to shake things up." She said, "I'm sorry I got in the way."

"You didn't." He replied, "In fact, I think the fact you were there ruffled Sik's feathers even more."

"Dr. Svboda..." she began, sitting on the bed next to him, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Aunt Lýdie and Anděl were talking about all those arguments Duantia used against you." She said, "Were they true?"

Eliás was taken aback by the question, and almost chided her for rudeness, but then he relaxed. He decided that she was a part of this family too, and why should she not know? "That I don't know where the one half of my DNA helix comes from?" she nodded, "I don't know for sure, I mean sometimes vampyres develop weird hair colours or maybe my parents carried recessive genes."

"Do you ever wonder?" she asked.

His eyes met hers. "No." He said simply, "I don't. Because I have a father. My father who raised me and made me the person I am. He's the person who shaped my soul, not my mother or whoever knocked her up. It was a long time ago Katja."

"How old are you?" she asked suddenly, her lively green eyes taking a mellower tone.

He wiped his eyes again, "I was born in 1889." he said.

"Wow, that would make you, what? Seventy-one?"

He narrowed his eyes to slits. "Seventy, actually."

"You're really lucky." She said, awe pitching her voice, "You'll live for centuries."

"It is possible to live for too long Katja." He said, "A shorter life forces you to live it. Us... Sometimes we just end up waiting."

"We end up waiting as well." She said, "We just feel worse about it when we have to." She smiled, "You're going to make history."

"Did you want my autograph?"

She stifled giggles and slapped him on the arm. "No!"

"We'll have reporters crawling up the drainpipes."

"You have yourself to thank for that."

He chuckled, and listened to the silence between them as his voice faded. She was looking at him, doey-eyed and glowing, polished with a lively grin. He straightened himself up. "Why are you here Katja?"

The question knocked her off balance. Her eyes darted to the side and back to him. "To break some news for Díla."

"I mean why are you here now?" he said definitely, reading her open psyche with ease. "In the early hours of the morning?"

She raised her foot to rest on the edge of the bed she was sitting on, leaning her elbow over her knee. She wiped her fringe out of her eyes. "Why was I ever there?" she asked him, shrugging and shaking her head honestly, "Why were there so many girls in your class that had blatantly no talent whatsoever but continued to keep coming back?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"I like your company." She said, "You're so clever, you're kind, you're different."

Eliás closed his eyes. He wanted to kiss her at that moment. He actually found he wanted her right then. Why not? Vampyres had human consorts didn't they? He sighed. He had decided. He wasn't going to do stupid things anymore.

"Katja..." he began, wetting his lip, "I like your company too. I, like you more than just my friend. You're the loveliest, sweetest girl I've ever met." He sighed, "And you deserve so much more than me." She remained silent. "You have your entire life ahead of you. One day, you'll want children, someone to grow old with and watch your grandchildren playing in your garden. Katja... I can't give you those things. And I can't do that to you."

"It..." she looked away from him, "Wouldn't have had to have been really serious." She said numbly. "Other vampyres have human consorts..."

"Other vampyres aren't always so concerned about the welfare of the human." He said seriously. It was true, relationships with other vampyres were different, they would go through the centuries with you, with humans, it had to be casual, anything else hurt too much, "And it's usually female vampyres that have consorts, as male humans are happier regarding the casual basis of things. Come on I know that's not how women work Katja and so do you. That's not how I work. I'm a man fine, some people think I'm not very aware of that but I am." She laughed, "But when you can get inside people's heads without even meaning to, you can start to predict situations. And even if we did and it didn't work, no human man would ever want you after that. If we did it would be good for a few years and then it would cause us pain." He said, seeking out her eye-contact, "That's not how I want it to be."

"Who was I kidding anyway?" she asked, her chin limply in her hand, "You're way too good for me."

"I'm not." He reassured her, "I'm, well I'm not a human but I'm a person, I'm not an android. I have flaws as well."

"Oh yeah?" she said, flicking a hand towards him meekly, a tired smile on her face, "Like what?"

"I have no life, outside these walls. My only friends are the people I work with. I'm impatient, and when I'm being kind on the outside sometimes I'll be cruel and mocking inside. People annoy me. Hell I can't even act like a proper man."

Slowly and purposefully she raised her hand to rub his shoulder gently. "Now that's a load of bull."

"I know too much to believe that there are no ulterior motives. I can't trust people because when they betray me I feel an idiot. Women in particular."

"Why?"

He bit his lip. "My mother's routine was never kept a secret from me. I saw my friends' mothers hug them on visiting days at school and I would want to punch out a wall. And I'm not a chauvinist, before you say it, my best friends have been women. Throughout my life I've seen them as sisters and mothers because I am unable to trust them as any more. Then thinking about a more intimate prospect is, well it's awkward." He continued, his grey eyes widening, almost with the disbelief of what he himself was saying, "Because of that, and because of my affinity, I've been called gay, hermaphroditic, transsexual!" his hand fell into his lap and his annoyance dissipated, "The list goes on."

"That's disgusting."

"That's life, sadly." He said, "You can go through life believing that it doesn't matter what other people think, and in the end Katja you'll discover that the only thing that does matter is how there people see you. Because no one can see every moment of every day literally through your eyes. What other people think of you is all you ever are."

"Now that's just depressing."

He grinned and wiped his eyes. "Sorry. Long day."

"Hey..." she began, shuffling so she was sitting closer to him, "Can I try something?"

"Sure." He nodded.

Leaning forward, in and close, Katja gave a little smile against his lips and paused for a moment, eyes lidded, before kissing him gently yet purposefully on the mouth. At the touch Eliás felt his mouth immediately fill with the anticipation of the taste of blood. Kissing humans was different to kissing other vampyres. He felt his body heat rise and with it an insatiable thirst, an insatiable desire. He began to understand why women complained about how sexually driven men were, how they just dived right in – this was what he felt like right now, like she was the last woman on the planet, like he could drown in her and never stop wanting more. That one thing that was all men ever wanted was right at the front of his mind, he wanted to rip her clothes off, he wanted to be inside her and he wanted to be inside her now! It was an almost carnal instinct. Ah crap, getting this turned on by a little kiss? He really needed to get out more. Friedrich would probably say he needed to get laid. And he probably did... Shit... He dug his fingers into the sheets and clamped down as hard as he could – he wasn't supposed to be touching her. He supposed it was Katja's 'now or never', and wondered how simply a kiss, albeit by now a passionate and quite rough one could spark such a heat. The heat seemed to mingle with the fatigue, giving the impression that he was in a pleasant dream.

Katja broke away gently and grinned at him, her cheeks flushed pink. She looked so very happy. She giggled at what was probably the gormless look on his face. "I've wanted to do that ever since I was fourteen." She laughed.

"What was that for?"

She grinned again. "I'm living my life. Since it's short I'm forced to live it. And that was on my list of one hundred things to do before I die."

"Kat..." he said, pausing slightly, "You just taught me something."

"I did?" she asked, looking confused, "Was it smart?"

A spark lit up in his grey eyes and a smile tweaked at his lips. "Yes." He said quietly, breaking out into chuckles, "Yes it was."

"Are you alright?" she asked, getting up, "If I may say so you look like death."

"Thank you Katja." He said, a little sarcastically. Most of it he meant. "Come here." He said, extending his arms and welcoming her into a hug.

"Thanks Dr. Svboda." She said into his collar.

"You can call me Eliás you know."

"Okay."

He blinked as he stroked her back gently. "You'll find someone who deserves you." He said, "Someone who can give you a normal life. I'm genuinely sorry it can't be me."

"Me too." She said quietly, holding him loosely and breathing deeply.

"Good luck." He said, "And don't forget, if he hurts you I can always have him eaten."

She snorted. "Yeah ruthless trained vampyres are a phone-call away."

"Come on." He said, pulling back and placing his hands on her arms. "Get some sleep."

"Trust me." she said, "I will."

* * *

**R&R!**


	19. The Jezinka

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: **

**Jezinka – beautiful damsel that made a habit of tearing people's eyes out. Self explanatory. Pronounced: Yay-ts-een-kah. **

**To TeaTime: That's okay. This is now the last chapter of the 1960 time period. The next time period will be modern day, where Eliás gets called by Erce to San Clemente and meets Lenobia again, even though she doesn't remember him. Thanks btw! ^^**

* * *

There is an old Bohemian fairy tale.

The Czechoslovaks don't have many famous folk tales, old fish wives' gossipings. It's not what they're well known for and unless you mention the word Prague in a Geography lesson or maybe Bohemia in a History exam, it is a country oft forgotten about. Needless to say many of their customs and stories remain silent with them.

Now if you were reading a young child a bedtime story, you might mention the Jezinkas.

The story goes that once upon a time there was a poor orphan youth by the name of Johnny, who wondered through the kingdom of Bohemia trying to find work. He travelled far and wide without success. On his travels, he came across an old man, who had naught but sockets where his eyes should be. This old man offered Johnny a job tending to his goats, with only one warning:

"_Never go up into the hills, or the Jezinkas will put you to sleep and tear out your eyes."_

For two days Johnny obeyed him, but by the third day, it became obvious that the pasture on the hills was far better in the lower fields. He took with him three shoots of bramble, and drove the goats up the hill. Sure enough, a beautiful young woman appeared and offered him an apple. Johnny refused, saying he had eaten his fill of apples from his master's tree. The beautiful girl disappeared. Next he was approached by yet another beautiful young woman who offered to let him smell a rose. Again Johnny declined, saying he had smelled the most fragrant of roses in his master's garden, and the girl vanished. Next, came a third girl, who offered to comb his hair. He said nothing, and when she came close, he tied her hands with a shoot of bramble. Her sisters came to her aid, but could not free her, and he trapped them as well.

He fetched his master. Taking the oldest Jezinka, he demanded his master's eyes. When she said she did not know, he threatened to throw her into the river. She brought him to a cave filled with eyes and gave him two. His master put them in and wept, saying he could see nothing but owls. Johnny threw that Jezinka into the river. He did the same with the second, and when she gave his master eyes that saw nothing but wolves, he threw her, too, into the river. With the third, after she gave his master eyes that saw nothing but pike, he went to throw her in, but she pleaded with him, gave his master his actual eyes, before vanishing into thin air.

Both master and boy rejoiced, and for ever after, Johnny was a goatherd to his master's goats, and his master made cheeses. They never saw the Jezinkas again.

* * *

_19__th__ November 1960_

* * *

_Eliás_

* * *

_Tap..._

You have _got_ to be kidding me.

What is this, the seventh time this week?

I ignored it for a few seconds, briefly wondering whether or not it might go away on its own. Pushing back my chair, I got to my feet and walked over to the calendar on the wall. 19th November 1960. Was it really 1960 already? Seventy-one years ago from now, right at this moment, my mother was in excruciating pain. I felt the hollowness where my regret for this lacked. Seventy-one years ago, I was born into the Kingdom of Bohemia, into a world where women wore elaborate skirts and corsets, where men wore top hats and tails, when we truly and contentedly knew so little. Now, three republics, two world wars and a dictatorship later, here I stood, in my office, running the largest House of Night in the world. Now we didn't have the most students out of all the other houses in the world, but we did have to largest site. I paced silently. I still wasn't fully used to this. It was still Adéla's office, Adéla's things. It felt like I was just warming the bench for her until she came back. It had gone from being sad that she was no longer here to odd.

_Tap..._

Happy Birthday me.

I wasn't sure whether or not it was possible for a swan to mellow. I had never before had time or concern for such thoughts, and the abnormality of it was keeping my mind awake. I had left the creature in the care of a veterinary surgeon and been on my way, not giving any further thought to it other than how I was going to get the blood and muck out of my lab-tunic. That had been two months ago.

It had been in early October that I saw it again, sitting on the window sill of my office, peering in through the glass as if I were cruel for shutting it out in the cold. I knew it was the same animal, as its feathers were still disturbed at the area where blood seeped from before. Eventually, after sitting there for a few hours and realising that I was not letting it in, it took off from the ledge, somewhat ungracefully, but I forgave that since it had no run-up. It took itself down to the pond in one of the gardens and I watched it from the window as it swan and bobbed for fish beneath the surface. What was weirder still was that this bird kept returning. Again and again, on the dot every day, peering in at me. If it were a robin or something like that I wouldn't have been so surprised, but a swan? Even Shekinah asked me before I discharged her why I was being stalked by a swan. Even though every day it looked less and less like it was going to tear my eyes out, I still didn't want a repeat of last time, and left it outside. Today, it was back again, and this was far too strange.

Sighing, I paced to the window and slammed my hand down on the handle, jolting it open and pushing it wide, bracing myself for the sharp winter breeze. And it was cold out there, the temperature hadn't risen above freezing for weeks. The bitter wind hit me square in the face, and not far behind it, so did the wing of the swan, almost knocking me entirely off balance as it flew past me and landed in the middle of the room, its wing-span was huge, its dark webbed feet slapped against the wooden floor.

"What do you want?" I asked it in frustration, putting my hands on my hips, briefly noting that I was talking to a swan.

I raised an eyebrow at it. "Don't look at me like that."

There was a knock on the door. "Yes?" I asked, before my common sense could stop me.

The door opened. The swan looked around and suddenly flew for the door before whoever was behind it could even see it coming. All I could see was a mop of dirty blonde hair from behind the flurry of white wings and squawking. Friedrich screamed, glaring and shouting at it furiously as it proceeded to attack him with everything it had.

"Eliás!" he roared, "Call off your bird! Call off your bird!"

I rugby-tackled the thing to the floor, wrapping my arms around it and heaving it back off Friedrich, who as I did it seemed was carrying something wrapped in a towel and was guarding it with his life. The swan finally calmed down in my arms, and relaxed.

"What in _Nyx's name _Eliás is that thing doing in here?"

"I found it."

He glared. "Whatever it is, keep it away from my kitten!"

I smiled widely from behind swan-wings. "Oh has Duška had her kittens?"

Duška was Lýdie's cat, and had for some time been expecting kittens. All the staff had been calling dibs on a kitten, except me that is. Cats didn't take to me as they did other vampyres. Friedrich, who admitted that he needed a stable cat, had agreed to take one when they were weaned. Obviously they were just born, but this was clearly the one he had chosen. I looked at its little face, its tiny body curled up in the towel, its eyes still shut.

"Chosen a name yet?"

"No." He said, "But it's a queen though."

"Well invite me to the Christening."

He laughed. "I actually came to wish you a happy birthday." He said, "I see you may have other things on your mind."

The swan gave me a blank look, and began to yank at my shoulder, apparently confused that I didn't have feathers it could pull out. Friedrich watched this for a second, before staring, an entertained look on his face.

"Good Goddess Eliás that swan thinks it's a bloody cat!" he said.

"You noticed?"

"This isn't the one that's been following you is it?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No. This is one I made earlier."

"I think it likes you."

"It bloody doesn't it tried to kill me."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Um... I'm not sure."

Friedrich rocked his kitten in his arms gently. "Eliás, I know this is a strange suggestion, but this thing has been following you for a month now. Did you ever consider the possibility, that it might be your familiar?"

I blinked and repeated his suggestion very slowly. "My familiar?"

"That's how our familiars come to us, you know." He said, "They find us. And whilst in ninety-nine percent of cases they are cats, there are some instances where a familiar to a vampyre may be another kind of animal. None of the cats have taken a shine to you."

"Yes well I don't consider myself normal enough for that. Ah of course..." I said, memories flying back, how could I have been so stupid? "Because you have a horse-familiar don't you?"

He nodded, like a teacher praising a correct answer. Bloody Friedrich. "Ares, yes. Although I could get quite attached to this little thing. The High Priestess in England has a golden eagle."

So High Priestess Olivia gets a golden eagle, Friedrich gets a stallion aptly named after the Greek god of war. "And I get a swan?"

"Swans are beautiful, elegant, poised, regal, they work hard beneath the surface without so much as giving the slightest impression above, they are graceful creatures with great strength, who protect their nests with ferocity. I think that's you down to a T."

"Excuse me?" I said, "You think I'm a swan?"

"On your birthday and everything."

I looked at the swan, which had become surprisingly docile. It actually was a beautiful creature, its feathers were whiter than snow, it arched its neck elegantly. _"Are you my familiar?" _I asked it, trying to project the thoughts into its head. Quicker than lightning, it darted forward and bit me on the nose. Interesting.

The first thing I decided was, rather than to put it back outside where the water was now freezing over, I would have to keep it inside for a while anyway. And that meant, it had to be cleaner. That meant, it was going in the bath.

That meant, World War Three was about to commence.

* * *

It was early evening, after "breakfast" but before the lessons for the night began. The Sun had set and all was dark, a ferocious biting cold sweeping over the city. Fortunately, fledglings aren't known for their ability to rise early, therefore carrying a swan back to my room wasn't a problem. I pushed the thick wooden door behind me shut and immediately shivered. The rooms were kept heated by fires during the daytime when we all slept, but there was no point in heating them during the night as no one was in them, and so even though I had woken up warm this morning, the temperature had fallen so much I could see my breath in front of my face. I put the swan down on the floor in the ensuite, where the floor was tiled, and made a beeline for the fire, which I restarted. I then went for the windows, pulling the thick drapes shut, feeling another shiver as I did so when I saw snow falling upon Prague and all the lights of the city glowing in the dark. Grabbing some old towels out of my airing cupboard, I shut myself in the ensuite and turned on the taps, the steam from the water rising into the air and warming the room, mist condensing on the mirror. Now it was warm, I let half of the water out of the tub again, and twisted the 'cold' tap. I didn't know anything about swans, but I didn't need to be intelligent to know it wouldn't be able to sit in water that hot. I tested it with my elbow – oh _how_ do I get myself into these things? – and cut the water off. I could hear the swan waddling around on the tiled floor, slap slap slap as the webbed feet went. Reaching around, I grabbed it and released it into the water before it had even seen me coming, holding my head away as it beat its wings like it was trying to take off. Water flew everywhere. The clean stuff, and the mucky stuff that it had come through the window with. The moment it touched the water the entire tub turned a shade of grey. I watched how its feet paddled it along and how serene it looked there. Was that really what I looked like? Minus the beak and long neck? The water parted easily before it in gentle ripples travelling the length of the tub.

After dodging several attacks from the bird, it finally let me lather in some soap, after I had it in a headlock that is. I would be the first to admit that this was the strangest thing I've ever done, right up there with giving the High Priestess of all vampyres a heart attack. Still trying to avoid minimal soaking to myself, I managed to rinse the bloody bird and pulled the plug, waiting until the dingy water was completely gone before once again wrapping it in a towel. I looked down – my entire front was covered in filthy water. I sighed. This bird always added another shower to my day...

I drew back the curtain and rubbed away the condensation mist, peeking out of the window again at the thick snow falling on Prague. I had predicted this. It was a good thing I had ordered our supplies in last week. We would have to be careful that the water didn't freeze in the pipes. Nyx, winter was truly here... Katja hadn't spoken to me since that night. Except once, but it wasn't directly to me, it was to all of us. That news she had to break, it turned out that Díla was getting married in the summer. Why Díla didn't come and tell us this herself was anyone's guess, Katja had mentioned something about not wanting to go through the story again and again for each person that came up to her and asked. I felt sorry for Katja, that the task had fallen to her and that we hadn't really parted amicably. At the time we had, and we still agree that it was the better decision, but I was guessing that this had meant a lot to her for quite some time. There were some people in this world who I didn't care if I made cry. She was not one of them. Now Katja hadn't spoken to me, as such, but she hadn't avoided me, or stopped smiling, and right then I truly did admire her courage.

That bloody bird made a sound from behind me, which sounded suspiciously like a raspberry. It gave another few snorts, which resembled a human breathing through a blocked nose, included sniffs and groans too. It probably did have the avian influenza. Great.

"What are you looking at?" I asked it. "Are you my familiar?" It gave me a blank look and proceeded to pull at my tunic with its beak, almost cleanly tearing the fabric. I had lost the motivation to stop it. "You're not a cat. Or a dog, for that matter."

I was talking to a swan...

A knock at the door.

"Eliás? Are you in there?"

The voice was muffled from through the two doors and steam. "Come in!" I yelled.

The door opened and I stepped out back into the main room. "You again?"

Friedrich frowned. "Your Fourth Form Biology set are wondering when their professor is."

I frowned. "Bloody bird."

"You'll have to get used to it." said Friedrich, "Because if that's not your familiar, I'll eat my riding hat. Now hurry up, and I wouldn't take it with you if I were you."

"Yes I can see how that might be a prompt for torture."

"What are you going to call it?"

My hands hit my thighs in desperation. "I don't even know what I'm going to _do _with it!"

"Invite me to the Christening."

"Of all the things I know nothing about." I said, "It's a female, though."

Both of us stood there in silence. I had no idea how Friedrich could be so sure how an animal that I happened to let through the window today, which was coincidentally the same one that flew into the Infirmary window two months ago, could have been sent by Nyx to be my version of a cat. It was far too clichéd for my liking. Even though now technically I was Friedrich's boss, I didn't feel quite up to it. Friedrich had been here for centuries, even when I was a teenager. He was marginally taller than me, and when I looked at him I still saw my teacher, not my colleague. My thoughts trailed... How on Earth had I got to where I was now?

I remembered the day I walked through these doors. It was June, 1904, and I was fifteen years old. I remembered my father patting me on the shoulder, as I was far too old to be hugged then, him telling me that I had better find time to write to him, and leaving me in Adéla's care. In all my life I never dreamt I'd be allowed to enter Prague Castle, home of the Bohemian King, despite the terms of my arrival being slightly different to those of the average person. The one thing I regretted then was leaving home, that and not being able to fit enough books in my trunk if I wanted to take the essential amount of clothes. I was introduced to Professor Věra, who would be my mentor, and shown around the castle. It was ironic that that was the day my life changed forever, when at the time I swore that my life would not change. I would be no less a human-being when I came out. I was wrong in some ways, right in others. Yes, the swan was far-fetched. Everything that I am, everything that I ever was, all of that was far-fetched wasn't it? And never did I guess, not even intelligently, what life had in store for me.

I clasped at my chin gently, holding my hand there a moment. "Jezinka." I said.

Friedrich, who had noted my phasing out, raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"I'll call her Jezinka."

He grinned at me. "Well now." He said, looking around my shoulder as the swan waddled out into the main room, leaving a trail of wet footsteps across the carpet and arched its neck at Friedrich like a cobra ready to strike. The Horse Master of Prague gave a minute nod of his head towards that bloody bird, "That'd be about right."

He was right. It was.

* * *

**R&R!**


	20. Poslouchej Mě

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Okay, so this is the first chapter in this story where it crosses over with Resurrected, and it's retold sort of from his perspective. ****Hope you like it! Beta-ed for me by Tsuki-Himitsu, thanks hun! **

* * *

_**Je veux être celle  
Qui peux changer les peurs  
L'habitude et la haine  
J'y mettrai mon honneur  
Je veux vivre libre, et rester debout  
J'irai jusque là**_

_**J'irai jusque là**_

_**Le temps me rappelle**_  
_**Qu'il m'a laissé le choix**_  
_**Entre l'amour et la peine**_  
_**L'amour sera ma loi**_  
_**Je veux vivre libre et rester debout**_  
_**J'irai jusque là**_

_**J'irai jusque là**__  
_

_I want to be the one,_

_Who can change fears,_

_Habit and hatred,_

_I'll stake my honour there,_

_I want to live free, and stand,_

_I'll go that far._

_I'll go that far._

_Time reminds me,_

_That it left me a choice,_

_Between love and pain,_

_Love will be my law,_

_I want to live free, and stand,_

_I'll go that far._

_I'll go that far._

_From "J'irai jusque là", by Nâdiya. __(French version of "Just Because You Lied".)_

* * *

_27__th__ September 2010_

* * *

_Time reminds me that it left me a choice..._

Eliás felt the tension on the ground before the plane had even touched the runway. Even before he had taken his eyes away from the page of his book to look out of the window at the beautiful scenery below. There was a nasty sense of foreboding surrounding the grand castle that told him it would probably have been safer to stay in Prague. The air was buzzing with this almost electric sensation, one that Eliás in particular could feel. He didn't know if it was his affinity or his intuition or a small combination of both, it hummed through him, feeding him what felt like information. Eliás flicked over the page of his book and processed it. He had not always been able to feel these wavelengths. Over the years, his powers had evolved. At first it had been his copious knowledge of how they could be used that had made them formidable, and now it was experience that had ripened them into an almost enlightened state. Using them used to require extreme concentration, now all it took was a fleeting thought, a flick of his will. He brushed some hair from his eyes. He could control it completely and utterly, to the last electron, to the tiniest electric field. Before also, his affinity had always been there, in him, but now it was a part of him, and as opposed to resenting the damage it could cause, Eliás had rather begun to enjoy it. Not only that, but his powers had also become stronger. He could feel electricity roaring into life inside him when he walked, dancing on the surface of his skin. He did not even bother to wonder why; he knew that he would not receive an answer in this lifetime and time was better spent. Fifty years as a High Priest this September. Fifty years, and an extraordinary ability that had made him the most powerful male vampyre under the Sun. Only the very haughtiest of High Priestesses doubted his right to the position. Fifty years had brought out every confidence, every strength. Why was this buzzing telling him that it might be leading him to his downfall?

Erce, who never asked for help from anyone, had been on the phone to him mere hours before talking about the world ending, or something along those lines. So he had left the now overly elderly Jezinka – how the bird had lived so long was beyond him - in the care of a very begrudging Friedrich, and left Prague swamped in uncertainties. Even now he wondered whether or not Friedrich had already strangled her. Jezinka wasn't exactly known for her docility, even if Friedrich was. He supposed he would have to enquire as to whether any roast swan had been served while he was away. And these were the least of his problems. Oh joy. His wits about him, he undid his seatbelt and marked the page of his book as the plane came to a halt on the tarmac and the flight crew got up and began to pull back the door. Wiping his eyes and setting his watch to the correct time, he picked himself up from his seat and thanked the cabin crew courteously as he passed them and onto the steps leading him down to land.

A little group of vampyres and fledglings stood there waiting for him on the runway. Only on the most extreme occasions in his life had Eliás seen such a sea of sorry faces. They were staring at him, for what reasons he could well imagine if he could be bothered.

Some of the faces he recognised. Of course Erce, there was Dragon Lankford, the legendary fencer, sadly recently widowed, from what he had heard from Anděl. What he felt was a strange concoction of sadness and anger. Images of Antonie and Petr flashed into his mind, and Petr's fate in particular. There were few things harder than looking a dying man in the eye. He already looked thin, malnourished, broken. Like the only thing keeping him standing there was the prospect of avenging his Anastasia. His soulmate. Something that, Eliás regretted, he lacked in his life. In a matriarchal world, how many women wanted to stand in his shadow, be seen as merely a consort? This lacking had prompted rumours around the world that he was gay, which had made him chuckle when he read about them. He would keep them guessing, a 'mad goose chase', he believed the idiom was. Having the world wrapped around your finger when it didn't even know it was a highly amusing pastime.

There were two warriors there, one with a red Mark strangely enough, who both seemed to be looking at him like he was some kind of god. There was also a human girl, and four fledglings, whose jaws were dropping. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was gormless teenage girls. But where was the infamous Zoey Redbird? He had heard about her. In fact, whilst at the Senate, High Priestess Neferet couldn't seem to stop going on about her.

A sudden jerk at Eliás' conscience caused his eyes to flicker, in a way that might have been noticeable had he been closer to the little group. A beautiful adult female with long silvery blonde hair and grey eyes stood with them, her hands clasped firmly in front of her in a strong stance, her shoulders back and proud, she looked like a warrior for them in the absence of proper leadership. Forever a soldier. Time had battered him so much that all he felt now was a horrible nagging, but even in the short time as he descended the steps memories flashed before his vision, as did the appearance of her Mark, turning the nagging into a heartbeat. It was that German Cavalry Captain... He blinked, her face matching up to the one from his memory. Good Goddess it _was_ her... She looked at him dead on, a switch inside him flicked, his heart began to beat and suddenly all he could remember was what it was like holding her, kissing her.

He covered his shock with a smile and forced himself to look away from her and at Erce as his feet touched the earth, trying to disguise the 'lights are on but there's no one at home' that he was sure was written on his face. She looked immensely happy to see him. "Merry meet." She said, greeting him with the vampyre handshake.

"Merry meet, my friend." He said in his usual tone, "What calls me here so urgently?"

She glanced at the group. "May I introduce the Swordmaster and Horse Mistress of Tulsa..." she said, gesturing to Dragon Lankford and Lenobia respectively, ah, he thought, so that was what she was doing nowadays, "Darius is a Son of Erebus, Aphrodite is a Prophetess. These are fledglings from the Tulsa House of Night, Erin, Shaunee and Damien have affinities for water, fire and air respectively."

"Merry meet." He said, shaking each of their hands in turn. As the Horse Mistress' cool hand clasped around his wrist he swore felt an electric shock travel up his arm. He was standing in the Infirmary once again. All he could see was her, shot thirty times, bleeding and conscious and pulling IVs out of her hands. She hadn't changed a bit over the years, in fact she was more beautiful than he remembered her, now she had colour in her cheeks, and yet her eyes were as sullen as he had known them then, clearly, something was very, very wrong. She was hurting again, and this time he couldn't take the pain away. There wasn't a flicker of recognition in those eyes. They were filled with a marked curiosity struggling through sadness. He made sure his hand didn't linger too long on her skin. He was the one of only four alive who knew before seeing that there was a scar on the back of her neck. The painkillers had done their job.

Standing back, Eliás continued to look perfectly cool and collected, and awaited what was bound to come next.

"Everyone, may I present Eliás Svboda, High Priest of Prague."

The human girl's went wide with horror. "_**Him**_?" she squealed. A fierce impatience boiled inside him. He knew this would happen.

"Yes, him." Said Erce sternly, giving the blond girl a very withering look.

"I've never heard of _that_ happening before."

Then Lenobia threw a chilling glare that cut through the girl like a dagger, silencing her immediately. He made sure his own gaze was sharp. If Erce was not already laying her teeth into the human girl, so to speak, that he would be giving her a piece of his mind himself.

"Despite the vampyre society being a matriarchal one, we do not run our males into the dirt as the humans have done with their females." Said Erce sharply, "It is an extremely rare occurrence, I agree, but he is fully worthy of the post. I'm surprised you haven't heard of him before."

"But, a High _Priest_?"

Erce nodded. "He has accreditation for the Library, making him invaluable at this moment."

The girl, whose name was Aphrodite, snorted. "And is _he_ immune to Kalona?"

"I should think that being male and not having had half of his brain cells destroyed in combat he might stand a sporting chance."

They began walking away from the airport, and Erce explained in more detail just what had been happening. Eliás, experienced in almost every kind of horror, was sad to know that he was not surprised at this news. A rogue High Priestess, a looming evil. He wondered why he had not seen this coming, sooner or later. "I was wondering when this would arise." He said, thinking of Valentina, "Venice has had Seers, Prophetesses, claiming something like this was going to happen. None were fully accurate, it seems." He turned his head to the castle in the distance, where the Raven Mockers circled the towers as if the place belonged to them. "What have they permitted to happen?"

There was a silence. No one wanted to describe it.

He raised an eyebrow in an almost cheeky gesture. "I suppose you'll be wanting something from the Library?"

* * *

It was the most interesting trip to the library he had ever experienced.

The minor annoyance he usually noticed in himself when he encountered the hostility from High Priestess Neferet of Tulsa had bloomed into full-blown anger. Could no one see what this really was? Shekinah was dead, and Duantia was as good as clueless!

Sitting at Erce's desk now, writing word for word what he had read from the books after almost being intercepted by Kalona, he tried to shut out the childish blabber of the fledglings, who were sitting around the coffee table on Erce's living room floor.

"This is rich. I thought the British were known for their laziness. How can you write so fast?" came a voice almost so high to provoke his curiosity to enquire as to whether or not she regularly inhaled helium.

The pen in Eliás' hand suddenly stopped dead. He mentally rolled his eyes at the human girl, but forced himself to remain impassive. "I'm not British."

The Twins wore a blank face. "Well ya sound British."

"I'm Czech." He said, as if within his tone he was trying to emphasise their every stupidity, not even lifting his gaze from the page on which he was writing.

"Prague is the capital of the Czech Republic?" said the boy called Damien, with an eyebrow raised at the three girls, "Please tell me you knew that." They all looked at him blankly. "Great."

The conversation was interrupted by Eliás' mobile phone ringing. He fished into his pocket and flipped it open to his ear, his head refilling with his own language. "Ahoj..."

It was Věra.

"_Eliás, __Bylo mi řečeno, že jsi chtěl do San Clemente, co se děje?"_

"_Eliás, I was told you were going to San Clemente, what's going on?_

"To je dobrá otázka." He said.

"_That's a good question."_

"_Jak dlouho budete pryč?"_

"_How long will you be?"_

"Já Vám telefonicky, když jsem vědět víc."

"_I'll phone you when I know more."_

Of course, the phonetics in English and Czech were so different that his voice had changed. He lowered his eyes, and continued to speak.

At that moment, a breath of cold air washed over him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lenobia come in from the kitchen carrying a plate of snacks for them, setting it down on the coffee table. His eyes rested on her, and then refused to leave her, no matter how he tried. His mouth spoke as his gaze softened slightly. He began to draw out the conversation, much to Věra's confusion, something inside him was screaming at her, he badly wanted her to recognise his voice.

The flowing sound of a foreign language seemed to drift softly into her ears. Her eyes danced backwards as she stood up straight again. Their eyes met dead on. He immediately looked away, while she continued to watch his back for a moment, her expression unreadable.

The sound of Aphrodite's voice rubbed against his skin like sandpaper. "I thought all of Nyx's avatars had to have a magical affinity..."

He held up his index finger, as if asking her to wait, before he brought the conversation to an end and hung up on poor Věra. "What's to say I don't?" he said, finally putting his pen down and turning his chair so he was facing them, his eye-contact was solid. He internally laughed. If entire armed regiments of Nazi soldiers didn't frighten him then three teenage girls certainly didn't.

The girls jumped out of their skins as the light went out, and then on, and then out again. The light-bulb flashed and flickered, far brighter than it should be, before shattering completely, sending shards of glass showering down to the floor. The girls screamed as bolts of electricity filled the room, dancing around their faces in the air, the bright blue light illuminating their forms in the dark. They could even feel the sheer power of electrical charge, their hair beginning to stand on end.

Eliás barely needed to focus his will, it required so little effort. The lamps on the tables in Erce's apartment came on, and the electricity faded into nothing. Eliás' expression remained completely stable, his eyes not even moving from the three girls.

"I can invoke and control any kind of electrical energy. Anything from lightning itself to AC or DC to electromagnetic fields." He said, snapping his fingers and causing the lights to flash again, "It's called Electrokinesis."

All of the girls were too speechless to even begin contemplating forming a sentence. Apart from Damien, this vamp was the only male they had ever seen display a magical affinity.

"Woah... You're like, Storm from the X-Men." Said Shaunee.

He stopped himself from making another sarcastic gesture, despite the temptation. "I can't manifest lightning from the sky." He said, "Only through my body."

"Er, why?"

He sighed. "Because lightning in the sky is caused by friction between air currents. Something I have no control over. However I can still control sky-lightning, if it manifests itself."

"I see Eliás is demonstrating." Said Erce, emerging from the kitchen carrying plates of crisps and snack-foods with Dragon not far behind her. "And you can replace that light-bulb, it was new. Shocking, isn't it girls?"

"Yeah..."

"Is that the page?" asked Lenobia, peering over his shoulder. He mentally froze at the sudden presence behind him. If he moved just a little they would be touching. The thought that crossed his mind shocked him like his own power – did he want to touch her? He forced the thought to the back of his mind, there were more important things to deal with at the moment.

"And how can you be sure that was what was written on the page?" asked Aphrodite.

"I have, a very photographic memory." He said simply, continuing to write onto the paper, forcing himself to act normally. "And Lenobia, yes it is."

"We have little time left."

Although Eliás' face remained impassive, Lenobia had realised that his feelings leaked through his voice. It was the first interaction they had had in sixty-five years. "We have even less than that." He said grimly, "I saw them in the Library."

"Kalona and Neferet?" he nodded, "Did they see you?"

"Yes."

"Oh no..."

"Don't be concerned." He said, "They don't suspect."

"I shan't insult your intelligence." Said Lenobia, "But how can you know that?"

Even though the entire situation troubled her, the same fire was burning inside her, the fierce determination... In those sixty-five years, Eliás had matured even more. Now, he might even consider admitting, even if only to himself, that it was that fierce determination he had fallen in love with.

"Kalona let me pass." He said simply.

Dragon looked as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Why?"

Eliás gladly received a mug of coffee from Erce, and took a sip. "Kalona bears the same weakness as any repressed individual." He said, "I regret to say that we do not live in a Utopian society, no matter what your textbooks may lead you to believe. As the humans have their problems, we have ours. Social, political problems to which there seem to be no answers. Nowadays it is easy to be a fledgling." He took another sip. It was like the coffee replenished him almost as much as blood did, "The human and vampyre worlds have adapted alike. We both aim for equality, in a way. Even a mere fifty years ago, the shift from a patriarchal human society to a matriarchal vampyre one was enormous. We were ahead of them in our development, of course, but there was serious development to be done. Throughout the course of history, vampyres have abused their males as humans have abused their females. We are not perfect. It doesn't matter who the abused and abusers are." He continued. Suddenly, he turned to directly look at Lenobia, "In World War Two, Lenobia..." The Horse Mistress looked as if something has struck a nerve, and still the straight-jacketed soul inside him screamed 'remember me', "The Jewish people had unrequited respect for the Resistance, any of you, simply because you were someone, with a shared cause, but in a position of power. And before any of the fledglings knew about Neferet, all the girls coming into your House of Night admired her."

Lenobia looked almost bitter. "Carry on." She said.

"Do not misunderstand..." he said, "I would die before I shared Kalona's cause, and I am not in a position of power over him. But, being a male from, shall we say, traditional times, he respected me. Simply because I am cursed with male genitalia."

"You mean he just let you walk on by?" asked Aphrodite.

"Absolutely."

"That man really has issues."

"And Neferet didn't say anything?"

Eliás thought for a moment. "She disagreed." He said, "But she did not dare displease him."

"Automatic immunity, for having a pair." Aphrodite snorted.

"Eat something." Said Erce, as she poured out some wine into glasses, "Feed your minds. Wine isn't a bad idea either."

Dragon picked up his glass and smelled the wine gently, before making a face as if it was stagnant water. "I can't." He said.

"You need your strength." Said Erce earnestly.

Dragon shot Lenobia a look which almost begged 'do I have to?' She answered it with one that said 'you know what I'll say'. Slowly, as if it were poison, he raised it to his lips and took a sip. Like he was in pain, he swallowed it quickly and screwed his eyes shut at the taste. It almost was painful. He placed his hand on his stomach as if to stop himself from being sick.

"That is disgusting." He said, taking deep breaths, and putting the glass back on the table. Of course, he had lost his soulmate...

"Straight off the Italian vines, not even I complained at that." Said Aphrodite smugly. Eliás had really had enough of this girl. The man was dying, and that was all the tact she could muster?

"We need to get back onto track." Said Lenobia, "What does the page say?"

"It suggests that use magic to swap their places, that won't work, as Neferet could probably switch them back again. The other alternative is this one." He said, jabbing the paper with the end of the pen.

Lenobia read the words aloud. "Spell to free someone from a sentiment trinket..." she said, "Must be read willingly by the person whosoever imprisoned the victim." She looked confused, "How is that an alternative?"

He sipped his coffee again. "I am trying to determine whether or not Neferet's power is bound to her body or to her soul." He said, clutching his chin, "If it is bound to her soul then her soul has to read the spell. But if it is bound to her body, only her body has to read it."

Lenobia was quick to catch on. "Do you mean... Are there spells out there that can control minds?"

"Tsi Sgili spells have to be undone by Tsi Sgili Magic." He said, "But how much resides in her physical body? And is it enough?"

"Kalona once said to her that her Tsi Sgili powers were turning her into something immortal." Said Aphrodite, "There has to be a magical, at the very least an energy reservoir inside her due to the cellular mutations."

"Eh?"

"It may come as a shock to you, but I was good at Science once." She snapped. Eliás somehow doubted it, "But how do you mind-control one of the most intuitive vamps in the world?"

"I wasn't talking about mind-control." Said Eliás, "We have two friendly ghosts at our disposal. I think it's time we held a séance."

The world phased out around him. There was a knife stuck in his chest. What spilled out was, he realised, sadness. It was a raw pain, one that was quite unlike any other. He had wanted one small memory of him to remain in her, one small reminder of how well she fought. And there was nothing. An empty void of nothing where everything should have been. He phased back out into the sounds of people talking around him.

_Time reminds me that it left me a choice._

And that choice he made sixty-five years ago, he would adhere to now.

* * *

_**Et quand je deviendrai celle  
Celle qui tiendra debout  
Je donnerai ma vie entière  
Alors je donnerai tout  
Je veux vivre libre, et rester debout**_

_**J'irai jusque là**_

_**J'irai jusque là**_

_And when I become the one,_

_The one that stands,_

_I'll give my whole life,_

_Well I'll give anything!_

_I want to live free, and stand,_

_I'll go that far._

_I'll go that far._

_

* * *

_

**R&R!**


	21. Forget Me Not

The Lightning Vampyre

* * *

**Me: A big big thank you to TeaTime and Wicked This Way Comes for your reviews! Hope you like this one!**

* * *

_Vergiss alles was ich sagte,_  
_denn es bedeutet nichts_  
_Vergiss alle meine Tränen_  
_Sieh nicht in mein Gesicht_  
_Vergiss alle diese Bilder_  
_Es war nie Wirklichkeit_  
_Jeden Tag, jede Stunde, Minute und Sekunde_  
_All diese Zeit_

_Vergiss mich_  
_Vergiss wie es war_  
_Vergiss alle Dinge_  
_Was auch immer geschah,_  
_denn ich vermiss dich nicht_  
_und das ist wahr_  
_egal, was wir hatten,_  
_es ist nicht mehr da_

* * *

_Forget everything I said, _

_Because it doesn't mean anything,_

_Forget all my tears, _

_Don't look at my face,_

_Forget all these images,_

_It was never reality,_

_Every day, every hour, minute and second,_

_All this time._

_Forget me._

_Forget how it was,_

_Forget everything,_

_Whatever happened,_

_Because I don't miss you,_

_And that is true,_

_No matter what we had,_

_It's gone now._

_"Vergiss Mich Bitte Nicht" ("Forget Me Not") by Luttenberger Klug_

* * *

_4__th__ April 1945_

_Schellingstraße, Munich, Germany_

* * *

_Lenobia_

* * *

_Eighteen, twenty, twenty-two..._

_It was getting colder. _

_I pulled my coat around my ears. I was reasonably tall, my hair pulled back in a tight bun. I was often mistaken for a young man. The streets were silent. Anyone who had any sense was hiding, anyone else was in the military. All I could hear was the thud of my own boots against the pavement as I walked down Schellingstraße, and the bluster of the wind against my ears. I checked my watch. Three fifteen in the morning. I had to make sure that I was not too long. Shoving my hand back into my pocket I turned my lighter over in my fingers. _

_Heinrich Hoffman's last minute appointment for the day was to display the photographic identification shots for the Jewish families of Munich – those that were still here, that is – to Heinrich Himmler, head of the Schutzstaffel. Hoffman was, after all the owner of the most famous photo studio in Munich. Who but he to bear this honour?_

_And Himmler was partial to a cigar. _

_Forty-six, forty eight, fifty. _

_The bold gold letters were dim in the lack of light. 50 Schellingstraße, Heinrich Hoffman. I pulled one of my numerous hair-clips from my bun and inserted it into the lock. Matthias and Uwe had gone on another round for evacuees a few blocks away. This was only a quick job. The locked clicked, and I pushed the door handle down, stilling the bell above the door with my gloved hand as I shut the door silently behind me. Floorboards creaked beneath my steps, bright red banners printed with large black swastikas waved at me in greeting with the breeze from the door. Taking myself around the counter, I pushed open a door that led into the back rooms. It looked and smelled like a doctor's surgery, the scent of developing chemicals rife in the air and millions upon millions of negatives stacked in files on shelves covering the walls. _

_As I wondered through the rooms of photographs and mugshots, my hand held at arm's length, lighter lit and brushing the edges of dry paper, I felt a wave of calm. How therapeutic this was. Looking around at the bright yellow flames and the wafts of smoke that now reached my nose, I decided that was enough. With all these developing agents something was bound to explode sooner or later, and I couldn't return to barracks with my uniform reeking of smoke. I stepped out into the cold night air again, turned, and inserted the hairpin back into the lock, sealing the deed with a flick of my wrist. I straightened out the hairpin and stuck it back into my bun as I ran. I couldn't be seen here. I contemplated hot-wiring a car, but then the car I would have to leave wherever I got out, it would be traced back to me. I couldn't shoot off the lock to a door and go through a house, a bullet would be found. All I could do was sprint. Looking into every upstairs window as I went just to check no one was up. I wasn't particularly identifiable as an officer, nor even as a woman, I had covered my Mark with make-up, but still, I was well known in this town, the only female in the Wehrmacht, Rittmeisterin Lenobia Engelheimer. All some had to do was say they'd seen me, and I didn't have an alibi. I kept running. Yes, the other operation was a few blocks away, and I couldn't be seen to be coming from this direction. It was probably about a mile's run back to the car depot. The bus and tram stations were long closed. I hadn't been running long when I saw headlights in the near distance. From the width of the thing, it was a General's car. I slowed myself to a walk and stepped out into the gleam from the car's lights. _

_The car drew to a halt beside me. I slammed my foot against the floor and held my hand out in a salute. _

"_Heil Hitler." I said, trying to see who it was in the car without moving my head too much. In the dark I could easily see the red collar and stripes of a General on the man's uniform. General stood from his seat and saluted._

"_Heil Hitler." He said, nodding at me, "Stand easy."_

"_Good morning General." I said. _

"_Captain Engelheimer good morning." He said, his face stiff and worn, his little piggy eyes staring out from under his hat brim. I was far too easy to recognise. He looked like he was about to say how it wasn't safe for a woman out at these hours, and then he seemed to take into consideration that I was well known for my ability to look after myself. "What brings you to this part of the district?"_

"_I was attending to the Colonel's horse, it colicked again last night." I said. It wasn't a lie, earlier this evening I had been left in charge of the Colonel's colicking horse, "And now I am on my way to this morning's manoeuvres." _

"_Excellent." He said, "Get in the car."_

_I frowned. "That is unnecessary General."_

"_I insist." He said, too seriously for it to have been friendly. Reluctantly, I strode around the back of the car and got in the other side. He was looking at me. Disgusting. Stories of me in barracks had circulated far and wide throughout the ranks, and they weren't the type of which soldiers dream, either. There had been an incident, when I had been new and unknown, where three fellow privates had thought it proper to ask me for my favours, and when I refused, thought it proper to force me. Once came out with a broken leg, the other concussion, the last with a broken neck. To say he came out of it was an overstatement. _

_He died. To this day I don't regret it. I remember crushing his neck between my left thigh and calf in a headlock, and landing my right foot as hard as I could on his head. He slumped, becoming a deadweight. No one spoke. How they saw me warped from a pretty little daddy's girl who would bring them tea to a killer. From that day on, the other soldiers treated me like a man. If any of a more junior rank dared speak down to me I put a bullet in their foot. I spent my life, to this day, covered in bruises and scratches. No one took advantage of me. I would rather be shot. I hoped General Dietermann knew this for his own good._

"_Drop me at Lothstraße, just here please." I said. The driver stopped the car._

"_I will take you the whole way." Dietermann said._

"_I think it inappropriate to be seen to arrive at manoeuvres in a General's car, they may suspect you favour me." I said, tipping my hat to him from the pavement. "Heil Hitler!"_

_The General looked put out. "Heil Hitler."_

_I turned and walked away before the car drove away, I was at least twenty paces away before I heard it go. I hoped I didn't smell of smoke, although there wasn't much wrong with that, most of my fellow officers smoked, although I'll be lucky if I don't smell of wine after getting in the General's car._

_Matthias and Uwe weren't hard to find. It was difficult to persuade the remaining Jewish families to cooperate. I didn't blame the poor blighters. We could be spies, informers, it was hard to believe that anything good could come of a person wearing a swastika on their arm._

"_Report." I barked._

_Matthias gestured for me to go with him, and I followed he and Uwe into a residential flat. He closed the door behind us and drew the catches and turned the locks. The lights were out, the curtains drawn, had I not been a vampyre I might not have been able to see. He led me to a wooden panel in the wall, and I was pretty sure where we were going. These old flats were high-market, most of the ones down this street were reserved for visiting party members, most of them had secret passages that were used by rogue Generals during the First World War to hide British escapees. Matthias knocked on it four times, and with some apparent effort, the wooden panel swung away from the wall. It was lined with a ten inch layer of concrete on the inside. This meant that when someone knocked on the wood outside, it wouldn't sound hollow. I ducked into the tiny passage and felt my way down a set of steep stone steps._

_The entire place was a bloody mess. There were at least three families crammed into this little hole, the smell was far from pleasant and children were sitting in puddles of their own excrement. I kept reminding myself that this was better than a concentration camp. Still... I would be having words with the owner._

"_Matthias, the camps have better facilities." I seethed._

"_Yes, they have mustard gas showers." He said sarcastically, "It's not normally this bad."_

"_The manoeuvres will start soon." I said, checking my watch, "Once they have, the soldiers won't be around, they can go upstairs and use the facilities."_

_At that moment, the sirens went off in the city above us. They were fainter down here, but the dread that filled hearts was no dimmer. British planes were approaching. And that meant the manoeuvres would be cancelled, the other officers taking shelter in the basements of houses just like this one. I didn't know how thick the walls down here were either. _

"_The bloody British!" Uwe grumbled, "Aren't they supposed to be on our side?"_

"_Shut up!" I hissed, "Not a sound."_

_Around us came the sound of heavy footsteps, the retreats into the cellars next to the hole we were in. How many inches of plaster separated us, I wondered? It wasn't long before we heard a hammering on the outside door._

"_What are they doing?" asked one fear-struck Jewish woman._

"_Taking cover." I said, "Stay very quiet."_

_We could hear the whirring of plane engines, and the screeches and thundering booms of bombs dropping on the city, of walls falling and windows shattering. That one had not been far away..._

_We must have sat there for half an hour before the sirens went quiet. The footsteps started up again. _

"_Come on." Said Uwe, "They will have missed us at manoeuvres and we need to get back amongst the troops without being noticed."_

_I was pissed off. If I had been a little earlier, we could have moved them and had done with. "Fine." I said, getting to my feet. We waited for the footsteps to stop, and made our way back up the stairs again, pushing the door open. I went first, and froze._

_The house wasn't empty yet. The soldiers that had been hiding in the cellar hadn't yet gone, several stood conversing in the doorway, and there I was, coming out from a secret compartment in the wall. Fear set in and I felt tears come to my eyes as I found the voice to whisper. "Fuck..."_

_Machine guns sounded, I made a move to duck behind the wall, but I wasn't fast enough. The bullets struck me like fire, suddenly I was breathing, my heart was beating but I was suffocating... Nyx it hurt so much, my scream choked on the blood that was coming up from my lungs... I thought it would be quicker, wasn't shooting supposed to be quick? How stupid I was, the hole in the heart wouldn't kill me fast enough, the lack of blood meant my body couldn't receive oxygen, so I would suffocate, my organs would fail... Exsanguination, hypoxia... I couldn't breathe... Shit I couldn't breathe... _

_I felt myself falling backwards, knocking over Matthias and Uwe in the process, the steps taking cracks at my ribs and skull. I hit the floor. That was as painless as anything I had ever known. _

* * *

_28__th__ September 2010_

* * *

As Eliás boiled the kettle for a much needed cup of coffee later, after the others had all gone to sleep, he noticed that the door to Erce's conservatory was still open. How good an idea could that be? Were we going to be letting Neferet or Kalona in with an open invitation now? He shook his head and walked out from around the kitchen counter, going to close it, and hopefully keep any bad things out, even though something told him that if anything bad was going to try and enter it probably wouldn't use doors. His hand reached for the metal door handle, but the muscles in his arm didn't contract.

Lenobia was outside, in broad, Italian daylight, seated on a garden bench, she seemed to be taking in the breathtaking scenery. He couldn't see her face, but from her strong position, it seemed like she was embracing, or not embracing something, her long hair cascading down her back, fluttering in the breeze behind her. That woman always seemed to be caught up in some mess or another. How could she not have any recollection? Again, asking questions he knew the answers to. It had been the analgesic. That was biology. Fact. But it wasn't fair for her, to have forgotten such a huge event in her life, she had survived the near impossible and she never even remembered the courage it took her. Actually, he had changed his mind. Why should she want to remember it? It was probably the most traumatic thing she had ever had to go through. She would probably be glad to forget it. With the information he had of her, information she didn't know he had, information she didn't even know herself... So strong, so independent, so brave, so powerful. He felt like a peasant in the presence of a queen. The mere thought of her made his skin tingle.

The kettle clicked. Silently, he made his way back inside, and pulled another mug from Erce's cupboard. Filling it and taking it outside, liking the warmth of the Sun on his skin, he stopped two steps behind her. It had probably been his stomach's doing as opposed to his brain's.

"Coffee?" he asked.

She was so immersed in thought that it was like she hadn't even heard him. "Caffeine is useless to vampyres." She said, "Like alcohol."

He sat on the garden bench opposite her, putting the mug down on the table in front of her. "Pity really. I could do with a drink."

She raised both of her eyebrows. "Why bother to drink it?"

"I like the taste." He said, taking his own mug in his hands.

"Despite being acquired?"

"I remember what it was like then when coffee was such a luxury..." he mused. Wartime. He mentally braced himself, as more memories of her flooded back into the forefront of his mind, "And then after we were all just so happy to have it. It soothes me." He paused for a moment, "I touched a nerve." He said, "I'm sorry."

She looked over his shoulder. The famous Eliás Svboda, the most powerful male vampyre alive sitting right in front of her. He was the one they used to call Der Blitzvampyr, the lightning vampyre, back then. Little was known of him outside of the Prague House, other than that he was as clever as he was powerful. The name, almost unpronounceable to her German tongue, held a slither of comfort to it. He was an unknown quantity, it was difficult to know whether or not he was cold and strict or if he was kind. His hair was a funny deep shade of red to the point where it was almost a chestnut-brown, somewhere between maroon and brown, like something you might see in an anime cartoon. Of strange hair colours she was one to talk. Their grey eyes were almost exactly identical, he peered into hers almost expectantly. She hadn't been staring at him when he arrived like the fledglings, but she had to admit, handsome wasn't quite enough to describe it. He was broad and strong with a slim waist, his posture was never short of perfect – her army days catching up with her – she actually couldn't find a fault in him. The closer he was to her, the more she noticed. He could portray everything through the tiniest change in his facial expression, like he could project his thoughts into your head without so much as moving. And there he was, sitting across from her, looking like her like he knew her. Well, not like he knew her, but like he knew everything about her, when he hadn't known her for more than a few hours. She did like him though, asides from being handsome, she liked that he didn't count on that. As proven earlier, women would froth at the mouth for him, and while he noticed, it didn't seem to have any effect on him, no ego-inflation, no showing off. He never once acted like he was God's gift, which was in itself, a quality worth his weight in gold. She particularly liked his attitude, his wit, his banter. Anyone who could take Aphrodite down a peg was fine by her.

"You just brought up some old memories, things I thought I'd forgotten." She said, "And now as I look back I can see it all happening again."

Eliás went along, the memory of her lips on his overriding every one of his peripheral senses. He bit his lip to curb the sensation. "What happening again?"

"You know, that's how the Nazis were voted in." She said, finally picking up her cup, "It was brainwashing. They were going to make the world a better place. Everyone thought they were wonderful, until they got in. They destroyed us."

"I know." He said. He did.

She shook her head, more to herself than to him. "Whenever I look at Kalona and Neferet..." she said, "All I see is Hitler and Himmler."

"But you were in the Resistance, you didn't buy it."

She opened her mouth to ask 'how did he know that', when she remembered that she was quite well known for it in Europe. "It was us against the world." She said, "And, to be frank, I understand why we were such a small movement. It wasn't about, doing what was right. It was about surviving to see tomorrow. If you were caught to be doing what we were, you were shot. You wouldn't go home to your family and children that night. They'd probably be shot too. Anyone who wasn't brainwashed was frightened." She lowered her head a little, "The deaths of millions of anonymous people, numbers, whom they never knew, were preferable to not seeing the smile on your little daughter's face at the end of your shift."

"You did it because you had no one."

He understood that feeling. Sometimes being a vampyre gave the false impression of invincibility, even to oneself. When you began to get to that stage, when you began to outlive your parents, your siblings, your siblings' children and their children, the feeling that you are truly alone in this human world often caused vampyres to become reckless, almost because it made them feel better about their odds of death in comparison to those of their loved ones. Some were driven to despair by it, some to depression.

"Nothing to lose." She said, shrugging, "I suppose. There were several vamps. But we couldn't even put a dent in the death toll."

"You rescued quite a lot of children, if I remember correctly."

She avoided his eye-contact. "It was all we could do, at the end of the day." She said, finally sipping her coffee, "Children with "undocumented parentage", so to speak, easy to smuggle out to France." Lenobia's voice trailed off to nothingness. She sighed, and every one of her troubles seemed to fall out, floating in the air between them.

At that moment, Eliás made a decision. If he shared with her now what had happened between them all those years ago, he would only want her again. And he knew he couldn't have her, for all the reasons he had listed to Friedrich back then. Even though he knew perfectly well why, even though he didn't want to, he still phrased his question.

"Is that how you were shot?"

Lenobia stared. "How do you know about that?"

"We had our Resistance too." He said, fiercely covering the wavering in his voice, "The House of Night was used as a base and as a hospital. I wasn't the High Priest then, but I was using it as a base to research a university thesis, and being coerced into treating the wounded while I was at it. We had a telegram from the French informing us that the German vampyres in the Resistance were discovered."

She bit her lip. "It was only bad luck." She said, "We were caught. It wasn't even a flaw of ours. It was just a case of, wrong place, wrong time. Of course gunfire ensued."

"You were all brought to Prague for treatment." He said, "I saw you there."

She looked at him like he was the proverbial oracle. "You saw me?"

He lowered his eyes, in what to her looked like memory, but it was really full-blown shame. "I went to the Infirmary, to fetch a box of rubber gloves. I saw you there, along with two other vampyres being treated for gunshot wounds." He said, holding up his thumb and his index finger close together, "You must have taken at least thirty shots to the torso. You were this close to dying, it's a miracle you didn't."

"When I heard you talking on the phone, I thought I'd heard your voice somewhere before..." she said, his heart leapt, "I had no idea where or if I even had, I've heard the voices of many men, I didn't recognise it at first, as the British phonetics are so different. That must have been where."

"They operated for ten hours to get all the bullets out of you. I'm surprised you heard me, you were out cold for most of it."

"I was so lucky." She said, tracing the scar on her neck with her fingers, "This..." she said, showing him briefly, "Was where they had to cut to get a bullet out." She flicked her long hair over her shoulder again, and Eliás could almost feel her blood dripping from his fingers, "I was told I wouldn't walk again. I was a fool."

"Why?"

"For being caught." She replied, "It never mattered how many we saved... There were always more. It wasn't enough. There was always one more, screaming at us from behind those metal gates."

Antonie...

"A handful of people cannot stop a war, Lenobia."

Finally, she turned to face him, her stormy eyes the ultimate contrast to the perfect summer's day around them. "Then what are we doing here?"

"I don't suppose you follow boxing?" she shook her head again, "Nor do I, but it was interesting to learn that this year's heavy-weight world champion had to beat a man over seven foot with his brain. He was so fast the Russian giant never got a punch in. There are ways."

"It's a little bit bigger than boxing. We're sending fledglings, children, into a war! It doesn't matter that they aren't normal fledglings!" she clutched her forehead, leaning her elbow against the table, "I can't understand why they've kept adjourning this damn Council."

"Neferet probably wants us to attack first." He suggested. "To make us look like criminals." Lenobia snorted, "Aphrodite wants to lead some kind of Mission Impossible to retrieve the necklace." He said, "We need to make Zoey and Anastasia our priority. Because without them Neferet instantly loses her innocent guise." He continued, holding up his mug as if to say 'cheers'. "Your expertise in breaking and entering Nazi-style might come in handy."

She blinked and her eyebrows danced upwards for a moment, as if she were absorbing a piece of information that she had completely and utterly expected. "Ah... The Czech Republic remembers that..."

"Absolutely."

"There is only one thing left." She said.

"And what is that?"

"All that is left..." she said, "Is to see." She paused again, wetting her lip, "Who is Himmler, and who is Hitler."

* * *

_Vergiss mich  
Vergiss jedes Wort  
Vergiss meine Liebe  
Sie ist lange schon fort  
Denn ich vermiss dich nicht  
Und das ist wahr  
Und nichts wird wieder,  
wie es einmal war_

_Vergiss mich… bitte nicht._

* * *

_Forget me,_

_Forget every word,_

_Forget my love,_

_It's long gone,_

_Because I don't miss you,_

_And that is true,_

_And nothing will ever be_

_As it was once before,_

(Please don't) _Forget me... _

* * *

_**R&R!**_


	22. Pimps & Rottweilers

____________________

____

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

******Me: Hello, here's another. Funny and hopefully emotional, I added a little bit that wasn't in Resurrected, there will be more bits like that, as well as more of Lenobia's past... R&R!**

* * *

_You would not believe your eyes  
If ten million fireflies  
Lit up the world as I fell asleep_

_'Cause they'd fill the open air_  
_And leave teardrops everywhere_  
_You'd think me rude_  
_But I would just stand and stare_

_I'd like to make myself believe_  
_That planet Earth turns slowly_  
_It's hard to say that I'd rather stay_  
_Awake when I'm asleep_  
_'Cause everything is never as it seems._

_When I fall asleep._

"_Fireflies", by Owl City._

* * *

Eliás carried the box in his arms with extreme care. It was a plastic one, thick and still sealed with Hazchem Code tape around it, its dark blue colour denoting it as a 'dangerous drugs' box. He knew something like this was going to happen, he just knew it. Even given his lack of a sixth sense for things like this, this one had been undeniable. It was going to take more than their individual powers to do this. They needed some tricks up their sleeves, and some bloody good ones at that.

A lot had happened in the past few hours. In the space of almost no time at all he had seen every existing emotion resound off the individuals present and through him. Purely straight thorough him. He didn't know the new arrivals as well as the others did, with the exception of Erce, who had known Lenobia so long that any of Lenobia's opinions she automatically heeded. They were more new people to him, ones he wanted to judge for himself but didn't have to time to do so. He had seen soulmates reunited, friends returned, gilted lovers seethe, trepidation breed and caution between them snare. All the love, hate, fear, happiness, sadness, wariness, mingled with tension simply went over his head. Here he was as he always was, caught up in a tornado of emotions and events without so much as a hair out of place. He almost wished Neferet would keep stalling, maybe he would have enough time to figure out what he felt about all this himself.

Lenobia stood behind him, a huge iron box in her arms, a security lock on its lid, the muscles in her arms not even bothered about the weight of the thing. Eliás had to wonder, if he had warfare drugs in his plastic box, what the Hell had Lenobia got in her mini-safe?

He heard Dragon Lankford say "And for that reason..."

It seemed to be perfect timing.

"We have prepared these for you." Said Anastasia, setting down her own box and cutting the tape and plastic seals, "Now pay attention, because these may save your lives."

Eliás couldn't have put it better himself.

She opened the boxes, revealing inside lots of tiny little bottles of different-coloured liquid. "Right." She said, picking up a bottle from the first box, "This light pink one, is a sleeping potion. Throw it at the feet of your target and they will be unwakable for six hours. Make sure no one else breathes in the fumes, it's sometimes useful to throw it at a group of opponents, one bottle will knock out about six individuals." She put the first bottle on the table and picked out another, "This..." she said, holding up a dark pink one, "Will work if the last one doesn't, it will render twenty individuals comatose." She picked out another one, "This blue one..." she said, "Only use it if you really have to. Save the best until last, I always say."

"That's the one to throw at Neferet." Said Zoey, putting everything together. Finally.

Eliás took his chance to speak. What he had was far better than a magic potion anyway. "I have also prepared these for you." He said, pulling things out of his box, "These are chemical warfare agents, used in human wars. Be extremely careful with these, they don't have the same direct effect as the potions, anyone coming into contact with them is affected." He pulled out a tiny plastic bag of what looked to be some kind of illegal drug, "This powder is white phosphorus, it's a smokescreen. Shaunee, you will need to light it, but be careful it's extremely flammable so throw it away from you and stand back. This here is 3-Quinuclidinyl benzilate, it will incapacitate anyone who breathes it in."

Zoey looked confused. "Why have you got bottles of water?" she said, pointing to the bottles of clear liquid.

Eliás inwardly grimaced. Could Nyx have chosen a denser girl to save the world? He immediately swallowed his words. She could have chosen Aphrodite. "This colourless liquid is cyclohexyl methylphosphonofluoridate. It inactivates the enzyme acetylcholinesterase, preventing the breakdown of the neurotransmitter acetylcholine in the victim's synapses and causing both muscarinic and nicotinic effects."

"What?"

He smirked. "Better known as Cyclosarin. Causes headaches, blurred vision, twitching, seizures and loss of consciousness. Vapours take effect in seconds, and if you get it on your skin it will take effect after about two hours. So be very, very careful with this one."

Damien picked up a few of the bottles and packets, inspecting them. "How on Earth did you get hold of this stuff?" he asked.

"I had a bad feeling that Erce might have called me here in desperate circumstances." He said, "I pre-ordered them."

"Can you do that?"

"It was once my job to do research projects into the effects of chemicals on the vampyre physiology." He explained, "To see if the same ones that worked on humans would work on vampyres, medicines, anesthetics, even warfare agents such as these. I can get hold of pretty much anything, and if I can't I've got contacts who can. These chemicals I've given you will work on any vampyre, although I'm not sure whether they'll work on Raven Mockers, or on Neferet."

"Might they not?"

"There will be some effect, whether or not it is the full one, or even the intended one will remain to be seen." His stern demeanour returned as the fledglings suddenly looked worried, "I apologise for not exactly having the time to run another project before I hopped on the plane."

"The Raven Mockers will be too fast." Said Aphrodite.

"Which is why we will have pistols." Said Lenobia.

"We will?"

So that was what she had in her iron box. Eliás inwardly laughed. Where most women packed sun cream to come to San Clemente, Lenobia packed firearms and a punch. Hilarious.

"Darius, Stark, Jack, Dragon, Anastasia, Erce and myself will carry one. Our priority will be the Raven Mockers."

"Lenobia, how will you get these?"

Lenobia tapped the side of her nose. "I have friends in high places. More specifically, German military friends in high places." She slapped her hand down on the iron box, "The pistols were delivered yesterday."

"Oh." She said, "Well that would explain it. I thought you had to have a firearms license for that."

"I do have a firearms license."

"Why?"

"So that when I've finally had enough of you I can shoot you Aphrodite."

Eliás loved this woman.

Zoey's voice penetrated the circle of giggles. "Wait wait wait!" she said, "Are we attacking them?"

No." She said, "These are our defences."

"I thought we were attending Council."

"We are." She said, "And with Neferet no longer with a human energy source, her, unsuitability, shall we say, will be obvious to the Council. She won't win her appeal for Shekinah's position." Lenobia's eyes looked like daggers as she spoke the name of the late Vampyre High Priestess.

"Lenobia, you knew Shekinah well didn't you?" Damien asked quietly.

Lenobia sighed, clutching her forehead. "I was Marked in 1914." She said, "It was the beginning of World War One. I lived in Brandenburg, my father was the head of the German Cavalry. There was a House of Night in Hannover, which I was due to go to, but we were transferred at the last minute." She explained, "Vampyres and their talents are useful when there's a war on, it was expected that the Houses of Night would become air-bomb targets. All the German fledglings were sent to the House of Night in Venice as a result, because it wasn't such a target, being further away, of little importance to the war and much historical importance. Shekinah was the first vampyre I ever met."

"She was working at the House of Night then?"

"Yes. She still was, right until the end. She was like a mother."

"Neferet will pay for everyone she's hurt." Said Aphrodite, "We won't let her hurt anyone else."

It was the smartest thing that girl had said in the time Eliás had known her.

"I appreciate the consolation, Aphrodite." She said, "But we have to keep our minds clear. We haven't won yet. We have revealed the true Neferet to the Council. What will happen during Council is not my concern. What happens afterwards is." She took a breath, "If Neferet has to kill every last Council member to get what she wants, I do not believe her incapable of doing it."

"We'll have to protect the Vampyre Council?"

"The Council can defend themselves, but they won't be expecting it."

"What if she puts a spell on them?"

"They aren't the sort of people it's easy to put spells on. Don't underestimate them."

"What about Kalona?" asked Aphrodite, "Even if he has a soft spot for Zoey here, there isn't enough room there for all of us."

"I'm not sure he's really evil."

Oh good Lord...

"I'm serious!" she said, "He used to be Nyx's warrior."

Aphrodite snorted. "Emphasis on 'used to be'."

"I keep having this dream..." she said, "This dream where he loves Her, and She banishes him."

"Kalona can manipulate your dreams Zoey." Said Anastasia, "It's just what he wants you to see."

Zoey sighed. "It doesn't change what we'll have to do in the end." She said, "We can't kill him, he's immortal. We can't chase him off, we don't have the right circle. And I'm not going to be Kalona-bate this time around."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about Kalona killing." Said Eliás. He hoped to Nyx he was right, and he easily might not be. He had killed that human boy. Eliás would have to hope that for Kalona, killing a human was like squishing an ant, and that he would consider killing vamps below him.

"Why?"

"Because everything I've ever read about him describes him as the high and mighty. Killing is messy, it's beneath him, which is why he has the Raven Mockers do it."

"You don't think he'll kill us?"

"I don't think so, not himself, unless one of us poses a great enough threat to his own life. From how he regards Neferet, I don't think he'd kill, not even in her defence."

"Why does he even put up with her then?"

"He needs her power, she needs his influence."

"We know that all of us are immune to that."

Lenobia wore an expression that seemed to indicate some sort of epiphany. She stared at the blank cream wall, her grey eyes searching. "We've missed something crucial." She said, her voice on an autopilot, like she was in awe of the thought she had just had.

"What?"

She stood up. "Kalona was a warrior to Nyx." She said, "Neferet is a part of Nyx isn't she? Kalona definitely has a connection to Neferet, whether he wants it or not. The warrior bond isn't as strong as a binding Imprint, but it's stronger than a normal one. If Neferet dies, Kalona will be very weak. So weak the Raven Mockers will become nothing but wisps of spirits again."

Eliás perked up. "Or, inversely, if Kalona is weakened, for lack of a more final possibility, so is Neferet."

"What worries me, is that she hasn't tried to attack us yet, to stop us from testifying. It makes me think she's confident that she can handle our best efforts easily."

"It's her word against ours."

Lenobia gave a sly smile. "Precisely." She said, sliding her hand into the inside breast-pocket of her jacket and producing several small pieces of paper.

"I'm glad you remembered to bring those." Said Dragon.

"I'm German, we are ridiculously efficient."

Eliás could vouch for that. He resisted the urge to tag onto that a "bloody Germans" comment, given Lenobia would probably strangle him.

Zoey blinked. "What are they?"

"Immediately after Kalona returned and trouble arose in Tulsa, we wrote to contacts, friends and colleagues, all over the world. These..." she said, passing them around the people, "Are statements from High Priestesses who have refused to back Neferet's claim to the position of Vampyre High Priestess."

Eliás glanced over the names and seals on the pages. "Sakura Horoshima, of Hokkaido, Japan, Mæja Flosadottir of Reykjavik, Rosalina Medina of Valencia, Renate Badenhoffen of Hannover, Xiao Jun Li of Hong Kong, Valentina Michaelaevna of St. Petersburg, Olivia Sawyer of Oxford, Diônê Petralia of Athens, to name but a few." He said, flicking through them, "I think mine's still in the post."

"They're the most respected in the world. Olivia is telepathic, can control minds and communicate with birds, Sakura can create illusions, Mæja has an affinity for water, she can communicate with sea creatures. Renate is a chronokinesist and Xiao is a sonokinesist and battle-sorceress. Rosalina's affinity is earth, and Diônê's is air."

"They sound a clever lot."

The voice that spoke was Loren Blake's. He and Laila had been talking in the prep room, and neither looked as if they were truly happy with any of the answers they had ascertained from it. They sat down on a nearby pair of lab stools, close, but not too close, Eliás noticed. Loren Blake was a strange man, he rather thought, it was as if he had been brought up without morals, with everyone telling him he was wonderful. He was in far too deep this time. Eliás tightened his lip in dislike. Loren gave men everywhere a bad name. He didn't deserve Laila, and Eliás sincerely hoped he knew it.

On the other side of the field, so to speak, Dragon and Anastasia sat as close as they possibly could, he with his arms around her, she with her head on his shoulder, her legs crossed, the one not crossing only her own, but his also. They shared absolutely everything. To an outsider, a Binding Imprint could be seen to be a nightmare, being able to get inside each other's heads, knowing each other's thoughts, locations, feelings at any one time should in theory be, to him, testing on someone's privacy and personal space. But from all accounts Eliás had ever read about it, it was a highly pleasurable experience, an incomparable one. And when he saw two people like Dragon and Anastasia, so in love like that, sometimes, he admitted, only sometimes, he wanted to know what that felt like.

"They are all avatars of Nyx." Dragon explained.

Laila saw this too, and smiled at him. She was so like Neferet, but so different. The way her hair bounced, how she tilted her head when she was asked a question, how her eyebrows raised when she couldn't believe something. It was all exactly the same. Yet there was an openness to Laila, she was genuine. And that made all the difference in the world.

Eliás began to divide the little bottles up into groups, one of each in each, presumably for each of them to take. "Put these in your pockets." He said, "All of you, put the first few bottles into your left pocket. These are the ones that will just knock things out, they're not dangerous. Put the dangerous ones in your right pocket. And remember which way around it is."

Loren looked unimpressed at Dragon's remark. "Nyx Marked you Loren. Don't forget what that means."

* * *

_'Cause I'd get a thousand hugs_  
_From ten thousand lightning bugs_  
_As they tried to teach me how to dance_

_A foxtrot above my head_  
_A sock hop beneath my bed_  
_A disco ball is just hanging by a thread_

_I'd like to make myself believe_  
_That planet Earth turns slowly_  
_It's hard to say that I'd rather stay_  
_Awake when I'm asleep_  
_'Cause everything is never as it seems_

_When I fall asleep._

_Leave my door open just a crack_  
_(Please take me away from here)_  
_'Cause I feel like such an insomniac_  
_(Please take me away from here)_  
_Why do I tire of counting sheep_  
_(Please take me away from here)_  
_When I'm far too tired to fall asleep._

_

* * *

_

"What was so funny?"

Eliás looked over his shoulder as Lenobia walked up to his side. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She said, smirking, "Was there something about my contribution that was amused you?"

Had she noticed the expression on his face?

"Yes actually." He said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I bring drugs, you bring guns, all we need now are a couple of pimps and some Rottweilers and we'll be sorted."

She laughed. "You think a mob of angry youths can stop Neferet?"

"Well that's rather what this struck me as, yes."

She laughed again, but she looked troubled, he realised. When did she ever not? "Ah..." she sighed, "Thank you." she said, "You can always make things sound better."

"You're worried." He said. It wasn't a question.

"What else?"

"That our mob of angry youths isn't angry enough?" he said, clasping his chin, "I'd better get the Rottweilers."

She laughed. "I'll bring some pimps."

"You know some pimps?"

She shrugged and sighed enthusiastically, "There's nothing like a good pimp."

He looked entertained, being fairly sure that she was referring to causing grievous bodily harm to said pimp. "I'm sure there isn't."

"Men that think they can control women..." she said, "I'm not a fan of prostitutes either, if they want to give a bad name for the rest of us then that's their business. But men that think they can make money by treating us like toys... There's just something about smashing their faces."

He gave a small shrug. "Some people do drugs, some people jump out of planes, but you..." he chuckled, "I'm pretty sure they won't come willingly if you give them black-eyes. You'll wreck our mob."

"Live dangerously."

"No-oh thank you! I consider eating anything that has been within a ten-mile radius of Erce in the past twenty-four hours to be living dangerously."

She nodded, her hair swishing. "You're a brave man. We should probably get Dragon to do the cooking from now on."

"Can he cook?"

"And sew on a button and knows where the towels are kept."

"Good for him."

"He makes a mean carrot cake."

"I'll bear that in mind." Eliás looked at her, "Are you alright?"

She wiped her eyes. "I'm fine."

"You're lying." He said, prompting a sour look from her. He leant forward and raised an eyebrow at her acidity, "Lenobia, I can tell. You're always the brave one, the strong one, the one soldiering on." Lenobia was speechless. "When you're nervous, you babble. And whilst I enjoy it, I know you're covering up something."

"So do you." She said, "By being so calm and collected. How can you process stress like that?"

"I've become strong over the years." He said, "Just like you have." A short pause followed, "Why do you feel you have to soldier on?"

She looked close to tears. "Because I do." She said, "I have to Eliás." She looked at him dead in the eye, "Because if I don't..." she said, "I'd probably break down."

"Why?" he asked even though he partially understood. He was doing it again... Asking questions to which he already knew the answers. The soldiering on was as much about protecting her as it was about protecting others. She was shielding herself from something.

"People hate me for what I am." She hissed, her small body starting to minutely shake with either anger or fear, she calmed down, but it was for effect rather than genuine tranquillity, "I'm stronger – physically I mean – than other female vamps, I have this knack for self-preservation. Well I was a soldier, there were times when we had to be pretty damn violent. People only seem to see me in two extremes." She said, "Either, I'm a kinky blonde in britches, or I'm butch, I'm a lesbian, I'm a transvestite, I care more about my animals than I do about people." She paused for breath, "There's no in-between. But... I don't want to be weak and feeble. No man will ever humiliate me! Ever!" for the first time, he saw her look sad. Had a man tried to humiliate her in the past? Nyx help him if he had, but most women recovered, in a way, and came away wiser. She closed her eyes and her lips formed a tight line, "When I started working at the Tulsa House I tried to change myself. I don't like being violent, I'll do what I have to do, but I don't like it. Unless it's a pimp." She drew a laugh from his lips, "That's partly why I like it there so much. I can relax, just be me. I don't have to shoot anyone, I don't have to walk around with bruises all over me. I have two modes Eliás. Normal-mode, and war-mode. Now that I'm in war-mode, my defence mechanism just kicked in automatically." She leant back and looked at him, her face still strong, "So there you go." She said, "I don't want to be normal. I'd rather soldier on."

There was a silence.

"I don't hate you." He said. It was sad. That her defensive nature kept her from being considered attractive, in any interpretation of the word, when she was one of the most beautiful people he had ever had the fortune of encountering.

"I'm not even sure why we're having this conversation..." she remarked, "Can I trust you?"

"With your life."

She nodded to him. "Thank you."

He continued. "You are proud to be everything you are." He told her, "That in itself is impossible to hate." He smiled, "This notion that being a fighter makes you undesirable... It's not true."

"I could tell you the same thing." She said, catching him off guard, "It's just how we deal with things. I deal with it by going onto automatic pilot, the old married couple deal with it by sharing it, Zoey deals with it by isolating herself, Tish Nolan has this thing where she fidgets, she has to keep moving and not sit still. And you..." she looked through his eyes and into his mind, "You know everything lies on your shoulders, you with the power and intelligence to save lives, to intervene where no one else can. And that reservation, that control you have, it's like a barrier." She chuckled slightly, "You're even more screwed up than I am." She said, "You're different too. And sometimes you just wish that there were more people that saw the world the way you do. But at the end of the day you know that being true to yourself means being alone."

There was another silence. She refilled her lungs with air. He had analysed her for long enough. Now he had had his comeuppance. How the high and mighty do fall. He scraped a hand through his hair, and he still didn't look phased.

"Well..." he said, "I won't have to pay my shrink this week."

She blinked suddenly, like she couldn't quite believe what she had just said. "I'm sorry..." she said, "I shouldn't have tried to take you down a peg, that was unfair."

"It was true." He said quietly. It wasn't her fault. Like she said, this was how she dealt with things. She was babbling, in a very different way, but she was.

"I, just, keep wondering if this really is the end this time..." she said, her voice not shaking. He listened, "I've had so many near misses Eliás, and I don't know how much longer my luck will hold out."

"It was bad luck that got you into those predicaments in the first place wasn't it?" he said.

"And good luck that got me out of them..." she said, "And good doctors..."

He looked at her. "Good doctors?"

"I remember a doctor from Prague..." she said, and he froze, "I wish I remembered his name, at the very least his face... He had some kind of healing affinity I think, he could numb pain by touch... All I remember is how well he looked after me, how he really did care." She looked back at him, "Just a thought, you wouldn't know who treated me would you?"

The question knocked his soul out of his body. What was he supposed to say? He may never have another chance to tell her, didn't she deserve to know?

"No." He said suddenly, "I'm sorry, we had a lot of temporary doctors in at that time."

"It's funny..." she said, "At the time I wanted to go back and thank him and I never got the chance. Now, as I owe him my life and I feel that if my life is about to end, I feel I want to thank him and everyone else who's kept me above ground all these years."

"They don't need thanking to know you're grateful." He said, his stomach on leave of absence, "They already know."

* * *

______

To ten million fireflies  
I'm weird 'cause I hate goodbyes  
I got misty eyes as they said farewell

But I'll know where several are  
If my dreams get real bizarre  
'Cause I saved a few and I keep them in a jar

I'd like to make myself believe  
That planet Earth turns slowly  
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay  
Awake when I'm asleep  
'Cause everything is never as it seems  
When I fall asleep

I'd like to make myself believe  
That planet earth turns slowly  
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay  
Awake when I'm asleep  
Because my dreams are bursting at the seams

R&R!


	23. Away with the Fairies

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Okay, I do realise that I have buggered this up somewhat. I actually meant to have another chapter between the last one and the one before that, with the coffee-spilling and stock-broking and what-have-you, and you'll never guess, I completely forgot about it, which means this story makes no sense unless you've read Resurrected from chapter ten onwards. It's really pissed me off as I don't want to mess around fitting chapters in and as much as I know it's annoying when authors keep saying "read my other story" I've officially screwed this one up. Sorry everyone!**

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_5__th__ April 1945_

* * *

_Lenobia_

* * *

_The first thing I realised was the horrible ringing in my ears. It was really, really loud, to the point where it was piercing my eardrums. My entire head throbbed with a foggy numbness, like you do when you wake up from a nightmare with a headache, like pain should have been there, slushing around in there, but it was numbness instead, flat cola in a pressurised container. The sound resounded off the inside of my skull as did the dull thud that I thought was my heartbeat. Little bright flecks of colour floated across my vision, through black then white then red then something else... I didn't know..._

_There was a bright light shining in my eyes, yellow-ish, artificial, buzzing with that sound that made you want to swat it away like a fly. My body was lead. All of it tingled uncomfortably, I was so light, but I was so heavy, I was swimming inside my own head. Christ... I only wondered what I could have possibly been drinking... A fuzzy figure got larger and larger in front of me, and I flinched and tried to swat it away too. It stopped two metres away from me, but I didn't want it anywhere near me, not when I couldn't see what it was. It came nearer, to my left side, or my right, and I tried to tell it to bugger off but my body wouldn't move. I closed my eyes, or maybe I Just narrowed them, I wasn't sure, but suddenly I could see everything. I was in hospital... The figure who was now at my, right side, I could see now, was a young male vampyre, with lightning tattoos, pale skin, big grey eyes and hair a deep shade of red. He wore black trousers and a white laboratory tunic which buttoned as a turtle-neck and right down to the hemline at his hips, a stethoscope hung tidily around his neck. A pretty vampyre he was, but there was an energy in him, a power concealed behind perfect calm. He checked the IV bags, the tubes... Looking at my right hand I saw and felt (at the same time) at least three needles poked into my veins. My muscles tensed around the metal before I could stop them, I wanted to hiss, it was a horrible feeling. The red-headed vampyre began to check the needles – he really was a very pretty vampyre. I could see him better when he was closer. I knew that I didn't usually ogle men, at least not obviously, I, didn't think... His skin brushed mine, and I immediately flinched. I could swear I felt a spark, and I don't mean a spiritual connection spark, I mean a literal electric spark. It was tiny, a little little shock, but the jolt ran right through me. All of a sudden I didn't want him to leave me alone here... I used all the strength in my hand – pins and needles seared through it, literally – and wrapped it around his. _

"Help me..."_ I muttered to him, _"Help me..."

_He had doctor's hands; his skin was cold but warmed nicely beneath my grasp. But while his hand responded, his face looked blank at my words. His eyes wide and his brow tensed. Had they not come out right? I blinked again as my vision blurred again, I so desperately wanted to see clearly! I intended to just tilt my head to the side slightly and give a small smile, but my head, so so heavy, completely lolled to the side and my smile felt more like a grimace. _

"I asked for a bullet in the heart and they send me a handsome man..." _I joked, well, tried to joke. Again he looked blank. Could he not hear me or something? What the...?_

_Oh no... _

_He could hear me, he just couldn't understand me... Oh God where was I? I could be anywhere! I could be behind the Allied lines! What if they didn't know I was Resistance? If what if I was in fascist hands? I barely noticed that he had connected a syringe to the IV needle and was pressing gently on it. No no no no more drugs! I tried to complain but I went limp again, my vision blurred and I was swimming again, only just, just aware. All the pain disappeared almost instantaneously. _

_His voice said something. She didn't understand it. It definitely wasn't Russian, but it was Slavic, without a doubt. Spoken quickly but clearly. He had a voice that was smooth like honey, calming, strong but soothing. It washed over me like a luke warm wave, and I felt his hand rubbing mine gently, telling me he was still there, what he was saying. His fingers entwined with mine and another good feeling washed over me. I was barely coherent enough to wonder how many drugs they had put me on, but all I knew was that this was an unusual thought for me, even though it didn't feel like one. He was taking care of me. I didn't have to take care of me. I was protected. To be deemed worthy of a man's protection, to be looked after completely and utterly, it felt far too nice._

"Thank you..."_ I forced from my lips, _"I appreciate this..."

_He spoke again, and again, it was gibberish. I paused for a moment, deep in thought, before talking again. Like he was talking to me._

"I want to go home!"_ I protested, _"Why won't you let me go home?"

_He squeezed my hand and kept talking as he had, like he was letting me know he was here. Oh God I had to get home, Vati will need me to do the horses..._

"My father needs me, I have to get to my father..."

_He raised his voice for a moment, I think talking to somebody else. Panic seized me, what if I couldn't get home? What if they were going to shoot me? What if the Allies shot me? Oh god what if more people died? I couldn't stop these thought from coming into my head they just kept coming, flashing on the backs of my eyelids and I couldn't get away from them. I tried to shake them away, tossing my head and causing it to reel. I clutched harder onto his hand, I didn't want him to go I wanted him to stay with me. _

_He spoke to me again, his voice hushing and soothing, God it was like a medicine. Our fingers interlocked again. _"I'm afraid..."_ I murmured, _"I'm afraid..."

_Then I heard someone else next to me. The redheaded vampyre spoke to him in rushed Slavic, and I felt another hand on my left. _

"_Hello?" he said, "Can you hear me?"_

_German! Fluent, untainted German! Never had I been so glad to hear my own tongue. It was another male, tall, slim build, honey blond hair flicked back, such kind brown eyes. He was an older vampyre this one, I could feel it. On his face were patterns of passaging horses. A Horse Master._

"Yes!"_ I replied, _"Yes I can!"

"_You are at the Prague House of Night." He said, "I am Friedrich, and the man sitting at your right side is Dr. Eliás Svboda."_

"Svboda..."_ I muttered... That name... That power... _"You're the Lightning Vampyre!" _I said, as loudly as I could, looking at him. Yes, yes he was, I'm sure I had seen pictures of him before... It was all so blurry... _"The one everyone talks about..." _Friedrich translated. _"Thank you so much..."_ I whispered, _"My name is Lenobia Engelheimer."

_Dr. Svboda said something to Friedrich, and Friedrich continued. "I just have a few questions for you." He said, "How old are you Lenobia?"_

"Forty-six?"_ Was I? Really?_

"_And your military rank?"_

"I'm a captain of the German Cavalry Corps."

_They continued talking. I was the first Rittmeisterin, the first female ever to hold a position in the German Army. I was a good fighter, it happens when you have four older brothers and one bathroom. I was physically stronger than other vamp females too. I enjoyed army life, but these past few years had been a nightmare on us all. Dr. Svboda still caressed my hand gently. Eliás Svboda. The Lightning Vampyre. The most powerful male vampyre under the Sun. This was him? Although I was not underwhelmed by what I saw, a doctor treating enemy soldiers? The more my intuition prodded at him, the less I understood of him. I could not read thoughts, as I did not understand them, but I definitely felt his spirit, his strength. Sleepiness came over me with a thirsty haste that could not have been anything except drug-induced, and I closed my eyes. As I dozed off into a deep sleep and became dead to the world once more, I wondered. Maybe he was the wild card, the different one too. Maybe, he was a man in a woman's world as I was a woman in a man's world. Maybe, just maybe, he was just like me._

* * *

"Evening Lenobia."

Him, she was glad it was him. "Evening Eliás."

"Did you sleep?" he asked. She shook her head, "Nor I." He sat down beside her, "I suppose to say 'we've got to stop meeting like this' is a bit cheesy now isn't it?"

The walk to Council was going to be a long and painfully silent one. The house was quiet, the Sun about to set. At least she presumed so, Lenobia could say with some certainty that it was going to rain, the sky covered in grey clouds and you couldn't actually see the sunset. Once again, he was drinking coffee, the teaspoon clinging against the side of the mug. She didn't feel like talking, in fact she felt sick, and couldn't even force herself to drink anything, let alone eat. There wasn't much enthusiasm in his voice when he spoke. They had talked about almost everything, he and she. There wasn't much left to say between them.

Her face was more than glum, her voice even more so. "We've talked about war, pimps, and the meaning of life, what more is there to talk about over coffee?"

Anything, he thought. He didn't care what she said now, if he could still hear her voice in his ears as he died, he would die content. He never wanted this to change. Just to be able to talk to her, about anything, stretching his intellect to the limits.

"If I die tonight..." she began, slowly and quietly, her voice so low only he could hear it, wavering with an anticipation, "Let me just say now... Thank you for listening to me." She said, "Maybe, we would have got along pretty well, you and I."

"We would." He said, sitting down on the sofa next to her.

She could feel that power radiating from him again, this time though, it was less like a buzz and more like a warmth. It was ironic, since the expression on his face was almost sad.

"And I am honoured to have known you, Lenobia Engelheimer."

How he knew her surname was a mystery to her. Stranger yet, she didn't even want to challenge him about it. She had known his surname before meeting him, and she had been pretty well-known around that part of Europe herself. She didn't want to argue now. It would spoil all this.

How close they were. Something sunk through Lenobia's stomach when he spoke, he went straight through her, everything about him made her feel warm. He was the first man in a very long time to do so. She liked him. She liked him so much it made her ache, and she would sooner be shot than admit it.

Eliás' face was suddenly very close to hers, their noses were brushing, mere millimetres separated them. Their breathing was no longer silent, their hearts no longer steady. She could so very nearly taste his lips, why couldn't she feel them yet...?

There was a creak of a floorboard.

In a split second they shot apart, away from each other and put good space between them. They looked around for the source of the noise, and listened. Nothing. Relaxing only a little but still on edge, Lenobia cursed the interruption. In the silence his breathing, she saw, was coming hard and fast, more so than hers. What was he thinking of? Normally, when men looked at her like he was now, she liked to wipe the look off their faces, and knock the air out of their lungs, but now she didn't, she felt so flattered. What was he thinking? Why did she want to know every tiny detail? It was exciting...

"Sorry..." he said in a low voice, "I..." his words stuck, "Sorry."

Lenobia's brain overloaded. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car just sitting there, God how could she be so airheaded? That thought was all it took, and with that, she was gone, a door closed behind her. What was that...?

A floorboard creaked, and Dragon woke from a shallow sleep to find himself cold. Fear snagged on him – where was Anastasia?

"I knew she liked him!"

He relaxed. Anastasia knelt at the door, one sapphire blue eye blinked through the keyhole.

"Hm?"

She knelt back from the door, watching not to disturb the creaky floorboard again. "I'm really happy for her."

Dragon swung his legs from the bed and crept up behind her. "I agree." he whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind and picking her up in one easy motion. He placed her down on the bed as if she was made out of glass and might shatter, before getting in himself and pulling the covers around them.

"You're cold." He said, pushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"So are you..." she whispered, "I'm so, so sorry..."

His hand traced the side of her face. "Why?"

She shook her head and looked to the side. "I'm sorry I put you through this I should have been more careful..."

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "It wasn't your fault!"

She turned in his arms to face him and wrapped her arms around him. "I can't do that again!" she whispered, pressing her face to his, "I can't hurt you like that!"

"Nas don't..." he said, kissing her between words, "I can't face it..."

Anastasia felt her eyes blur and sting, the wet trails travelling down her cheeks. Blinking the tears away, she could make out tears in his eyes – he was crying too.

"I'll die before I let you get taken away from me again!" he sobbed, "Nas I love you so much it hurts..."

"If you die I'll follow you..." she said, "I won't let anything come between us, not even death. I need you, I can't exist without you!" she wiped his tears with her thumbs and rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm scared."

He pressed his cheek to her hair and closed his eyes. "I'm scared too."

* * *

Lenobia strode into the conservatory and sat down on the wicker seat, burying her head in her hands. What on Earth was she doing? This wasn't any time to be fooling around. Her heart thudded against her ribs, alive, taught, straining. How the Hell was she ever going to look him in the face again? She heard footsteps inside, oh please don't let him come in here...

He appeared from around the door and shut it behind him, a determined look on his face. His jaw was set and his eyes didn't waver, they were cold. Eliás had had enough. At the very least, she deserved to know before she died. All this was about was his weakness, it was him that wasn't strong enough to tell her, not her that wasn't strong enough to handle it. This ended now.

"Lenobia..." he said, so firmly it was almost chiding, "I need to tell you something."

She looked up at him, her mouth opening, a little wider at the right in acknowledgement that he was up there. "You're not gay after all are you?"

"Uh, no." He said, it would have been funny had he not been so serious.

"Who did you kill? Was it Aphrodite? Please tell me it was Aphrodite."

"This is serious Lenobia!" he said, his voice raised almost to a shout, his expression cutting in a desperate manner. He rolled his eyes to look at the ceiling before closing them and wiping his fringe from his face. "I'm surprised you weren't told before, actually."

She paused, like the words had caught her off-guard. "What is it?"

He sat down next to her, and it was like getting too close to a roaring fire. All the guilt of keeping it from her crashed down on his shoulders and pooled around his feet. "When you were brought to Prague in 45..." he began, wiping his hand through his hair again, "When I saw you..."

Her eyes narrowed a little. "Yes?"

"Back then, as vampyres don't have doctors, in the wars when there were lots of casualties, either the few human doctors that would were retrained, or people who worked in the development of vampyre medicines were recruited to administer them." That had come out far too fast, a spurt of verbal diarrhoea. He took another breath, the fine thread holding their eye-contact gently strengthening, "Lenobia, I _was_ the doctor that treated you."

She blinked. "But you said..."

"I needed rubber gloves, yes, and originally I did, I had found a rare moment for my own work, but when I got to the Infirmary, and I saw you... I couldn't understand how you were even there..." his memory clouded up with images, "You had thirty bullets in your torso and twelve in your legs." His stomach lurched at the revisited horror, "You, you were still conscious. You asked us to shoot you..."

Lenobia opened her mouth to ask something, but the question faded from her mind like the sound from her throat. She pressed her eyes closed, listening for something that wasn't there. Like this wasn't happening. Like he hadn't lied through his teeth to her.

"Say something." She said from behind her eyelids.

"What?" he asked her.

"Say something." She replied, "In Czech. Anything."

"Vzpomínáte si?" he said softly, "Bylo to tak dávno."

"_Do you remember?... It was a long time ago."_

He went on. "Všichni jsme si myslela, že umřu. A nemohl jsem uvěřit, jak odvážný jsi. Když padl jsem tě, a cítil jsem se tak ctí, že anděl v náručí."

"_We all thought you were going to die. And I couldn't believe how brave you were. When you fell I caught you, and I felt so honoured to have an angel in my arms."_

"I was cold." she whispered suddenly, but it was sad, like she was only telling him because she had to, like there was shame in it. "Someone held my hand." she said, her voice strong but low, "Someone put their palm over my forehead, and the pain disappeared."

He blinked. "You remember?" he asked suddenly, his voice soft and once again anglicised. He had to finish what he started. "Lenobia..." he said, his voice having now lost all its power, "When you were brought to Prague there was no bullet wound to the back your neck."

She didn't move, her voice now harder, her eyes filled with something akin to hate. "Tell me."

He took a breath. "On the 31st July, Friedrich and I were to take you and Matthias and Uwe back to the German border. We drove from Prague..." Goddess why did this have to be so difficult? He didn't dare look at her for the anger that was steaming up her features, "We got to the Sudetenland. The car needed more petrol, and supposedly another tyre, so we stopped. Friedrich went to get the petrol and the others went to find another tyre, leaving you with me. You talked to me... I didn't understand what you said but it sounded kind..." he closed his eyes, "I don't know what possessed me, maybe I thought I was losing you without you ever knowing me, I desperately wanted you to remember me. I kissed you." He said, opening his eyes to look at her again, "Next thing I knew... There was a gunshot, and all this blood was pouring... We got you to the border, Friedrich had medics there ready... And that was the last time I ever saw you."

She raised both eyebrows. "Is, that it?"

He tilted his head to the side. "I may have electrocuted the men that shot at us..."

She sat still for a moment, staring at the ceiling and biting her lip as she shook her head to herself. "You lied to me." She said after a while, "All this time. You've been _hiding_ this from me?"

"Lenobia!" he said, eyes wide, "I never meant to lie to you! I... I just..."

She was shouting. "You wait until now to tell me this?"

"We live continents apart!" he said, "I'm Czech and you're German! We haven't exactly been best buddies! I didn't have any ways to contact you after that and when I saw you again here, I couldn't tell you! I couldn't bring that up, it was too hard. Enough to make me regret I ever left you at the German border!"

She scoffed. "Was there something about it that I wasn't highly qualified enough to know I wonder? Hm? What the _bloody Hell _do you mean you 'couldn't bring it up' Eliás?"

"Not for you." He said, "I could do anything for you." His face fell, "I couldn't do it for me."

She let out a held breath, her mind unable to process anything. Everything was jumbled. Had it been serious or just something they had fleetingly done in the wartime, she didn't know. How well did he know her, she didn't know. How she was supposed to trust him when he couldn't even bring himself to tell her this, she didn't know.

She closed her eyes. "Did you love me?"

"Lenobia..."

"Did you love me?"

He was silent. His eyes fell to the side. "Yes." He said, swallowing the frog in his throat. Another silence.

"Did I love you?"

"Pff. You never had the chance. Those stupid drugs made sure of that. You might not have." He shook his head to himself, "I was truly honoured to be charged with your care. You were so different and so fiercely proud of it. I so admired that determination, that fire you had, your courage..."

He could feel himself drowning in her face and she struggled to find the words to answer him with.

"I thought I'd forgotten you..." he said, his heart thumping in his ears, "And then everything came crashing back as I walked down the steps from that plane... I didn't tell you, I couldn't..." he murmured, "Nothing has changed. We still live miles apart... I was afraid... I was afraid that if I told you this would happen and... I was afraid of the pain of losing you again."

Lenobia's face was fierce, somehow similar to a very pissed off horse. "I need some space." She said, getting to her feet and walking out of the conservatory to the garden, slamming the door behind her and leaving him behind, his head in his hands. For all he might have tried, he hadn't wanted it to end like this.

* * *

**R&R!**


	24. Fear

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Hey, sorry it took so long to get this one up, and yes, I know it's mainly a copy and paste of Resurrected, but it is an important bit for them. **

**

* * *

**

"Eliás? Come on I know you can hear me."

"What is it?"

She seemed to have calmed down now. "I'm sorry." She said. She waited for a moment, "Look can I just come in?"

"Fine."

She swung the door open and shut it behind her, positioning herself in front of him, standing in the middle of the guest room carpet. He was looking out of the window, his arms crossed and leaning against the sill.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you." She said. Eliás' eyes travelled up to hers, where he saw one single tear trace her cheek, "I'm sorry I shouted at you when all you've ever been is a saint to me!" She wiped the tear away with her sleeve, "You saved my life and I treated you like crap!"

"You were right to." He said, "I deserved it. I kept those things to myself for, all the wrong reasons. I thought of myself the entire time and I never really thought about you. For all I'm cracked up to be."

"Thank you." She said, "For putting up with me..."

He laughed. "Putting up with you? You're an angel."

"I'm not." She whispered.

His head moved before he could stop it. "And you saved mine." He said, looking out of the window, "It's been quite a little adventure really hasn't it?" he saw her nod in the reflection on the window, "So what else do you remember?"

"Not much. I... I remember voices, touches, I remember hearing my brother's voice, he came to see me, and although I don't remember exactly what it was he said to me he filled me in afterwards."

"Do you remember learning to walk?"

She squinted a little bit. "No. I don't remember anything else. Only..." she wet her lip, "Every time I heard your voice, even though I knew I'd heard it before I couldn't put your name or your face to it, I, I felt very safe. Very calm."

It was a start. He chuckled at the memory, "You would be up and trying to be out of bed and you grumbled at us when we tried to make you rest."

"Hm..." she said, "That sounds like me."

"You were such a determined patient, you would try to walk, you walked clean out of the Infirmary with holes in your legs in agony just to prove you could... I found you one day and you were looking out of a window three halls away. You were watching Friedrich ride one of his horses."

"He's an amazing rider."

"Hm..." He said, "Lenobia, was your father Dieter Engelheimer, by any chance?"

The question took her by surprise. "Yes."

"Friedrich was the one who pieced two and two together when you were in Prague. When you were on the high doses of painkiller you kept saying you had to get to your father."

She looked sad. "Ah yes. I must have been away with the fairies. He died in an air raid in 43. We were destroyed."

"We?"

"I had four older brothers. Jens, Konstantin, Hans and Erich. Erich was Marked a year before I was." She mused, before the weight of the memory seemed to start crushing her, "Our mother died giving birth to me."

"I'm sorry."

"And I." She said, "But it was good, I loved my father and brothers so much, particularly Erich, we were close after we were Marked. My father was amazing, he taught me to ride, fight, shoot." She gave a little smile, "But it completely escaped his notice that I was in fact a girl."

"Really? It's not obvious."

She gave him a mini-glare for his cheek. "That was what I liked about Friedrich, when all you do is protect, have to fight, be the alpha-male, sometimes it's nice to be the protected for once." She paused, "And I feel that when I'm with you."

"What like you could relax and not wear the trousers? Or, dare I say it, the britches?"

"That's the sign of a true man you know." She said, "Someone who can make you feel safe in every way."

Eliás' heart began to beat. "I make you feel safe?"

She nodded. "You do." She closed her eyes to stop more tears falling, "You make me feel like someone else completely." She said, "It's like I'm not me anymore. All I can find that justifies it and all that I am aware of is that I trust you more than I trust myself."

"Lenobia please don't..." he said, covering his eyes to stop her from seeing their redness, "That's more responsibility than I can handle! Don't you see? What I admire in you is your strength, your independence, they have looked after you in battle before, you can't let yourself weaken because of me! I won't take them away from you! If something happened to you because you trusted me... It's happened before! I don't know what I'd do..."

"Fight with us." She said simply, "Fight with me! Please, just... Maybe we can beat this thing!" she walked up to his side and he turned to face her with an unusual caution, she noticed. She wished so much that he would lean down and kiss her. His mind was buzzing with confusion, separating out his thoughts into long and complicated processes that made no sense.

"Don't." He whispered, "I can't."

She felt a jolt of rejection. "Why?"

He looked so afraid, his face weary but alive in a way that was strained with emotion. "Because if I do..." he said, "I'm going to prove something to myself. And... I don't want to. I can keep using my common sense to deny it but... I'm just afraid."

There was a knock at the door. "Come." He said, turning back to the window.

It was Erce, as solemn as he'd ever seen her. "We're going now." She said, looking to each of them in turn like she was trying to push them closer with her eyes, "We need to stay together." She seemed to have cut the sentence short of an apology, but she remained quiet and held the door open for them.

He wanted to, she just knew. Lenobia just knew a lot of things, she had just known Neferet wasn't what she seemed for years, and she had just known that Zoey would be the one to defeat her, as had Dragon and Anastasia, and right now, she just knew why he was afraid – he was afraid that it would confirm that he had loved her in 1945, and that he'd fallen in love with her again.

* * *

Eliás had never actually attended Council before in the sense of being the defendant. He had attended many times as jury and as a guest, but had never had to take the stand, so to speak. This was the part he'd never seen before, the feeling so small that it was almost degrading. He'd never seen Duantia on her podium or ever had any of the other Council members against him as opposed to with him. He wasn't actually breaking the law, he knew that, but it all seemed like they were. Eliás swallowed the small lump in his throat. He knew Duantia well, she was no fool, and in this situation it was all the more likely to get her killed.

His ears were listening intently to Zoey as she spoke to Duantia, and gave their side of the story. Poor kid, he thought, who'd believe a kid like that?

Suddenly the doors behind them blasted open, giving rise to a gust of freezing cold air. They all turned. The aura that fell over them was so dark, so horrible, so nauseating to even look at, not one of them had the slightest doubt as to who it was. They wouldn't have even needed to look, Neferet's repulsive power, that seemed to pull every sad thought, every horrendous thing that had ever happened to any of them to the front of their minds, gushed in on them like water through a huge leak in a ship.

It was then they realised they were standing on the Titanic.

Dragon's entire body tensed, the arm that was around Anastasia's waist held her tighter, Eliás tensed too, even though he wasn't holding Lenobia, and she would probably give him a piece of her mind if he tried, he knew the fear he was feeling must be similar to Dragon's. Tiny electricity bolts covered his fingertips in anticipation, the charge darting over his skin.

Zoey almost fainted. Dragon had warned them that Neferet would be different without the host soul. Her skin was so white she could have been a ghost, like a sheet of blanched paper. Pale enough to be dead. There was no colour in her cheeks and her lips were a deep red. Her hair was jet black. Longer, but blacker than ebony. Zoey suddenly remembered what Aphrodite has described in one of her visions.

"_If Neferet's hair was black, I'd say it was her hair around you."_

Her eyes weren't a mossy green anymore either, but a lifeless, cobalt blue.

There was nothing in there. Nothing. Just evil.

But all of this, all of these changes, they were nothing to the first and foremost one. Despite the difference in hair, eye and skin colour. One similarity made Zoey feel sick.

She was staring at herself.

Everything, right down to the Marks on her face, her arms, and probably the rest of her. She looked older, yes. But her face was Zoey's, her figure, her height. As Kalona followed her in and stood at the side, even Duantia's mouth was open with shock.

"Neferet?" she gasped, "What on Earth do you think you are doing?"

Neferet put on her innocent act. "I apologise Duantia, This form has never been a benefit to me, the other you know me as was a disguise, if you will. Our appearance... was too similar."

"You were born long before the fledgling."

"I was not referring to the fledgling."

Duantia glared briefly at Kalona, before returning to Neferet. "Neferet, the evidence gathered against you is overwhelming. Do you have anything to say?" Neferet remained completely silent, her eyes locked on Duantia's, her lips tugging up in a nasty smirk. Duantia looked unimpressed. She looked to the other Council members, who nodded at her. "Then it my obligation as senior member of the Vampyre Council to reject your claim."

Neferet began to chuckle darkly, like Duantia had told a bad joke. "I know." She cooed. "Sorry."

It was like in one of those action movies where everything slows down. Neferet's hand raised, pointing directly towards the ancient vampyre. Before anyone had even begun to contemplate the logic behind her actions, let alone restrain her, Lenobia had tackled Neferet to the ground, grappling ferociously with the Tsi-Sgili. Another raise of her white hand sent Lenobia flying into the wall behind them, cracks spreading out into the stone as she fell to the ground. The time bought had been barely enough. The stone wall just above Duantia's head was smouldering, smoking, bits of it crumbling to the ground in the form of thick, black ash. Neferet looked back to Lenobia, raised her hand again. Eliás acted before his control could stop him, thick blue bolts of lightning so fast that they were barely visible struck Neferet hard, followed by a gush of water courtesy of Erin. She let out a scream that was not even as human as the Raven Mockers'. It sounded more like a roar, like a lioness hungry for her prey. The scream shattered the windows, the stained glass showering onto the Council's table like little shards of light. It had just made way for the Raven Mockers. All Zoey could hear was the thudding of blood in her ears and the caws of the Raven Mockers. Not even they were prepared for what hit them. The glass bottles shattered on the ground, sending puffs of vapour into the air. Damien immediately reacted by calling air to keep the poisonous fumes away from them. Those that were not immediately incapacitated were shot dead, falling from suspension like pheasants to a shooting party.

And that was Kalona's cue. His face more angry than Zoey had ever seen it before, all of the beauty was gone, rage boiled beneath his skin, his black wings became even blacker. He spread his wings threateningly and took off, even amidst the vile fumes, not even coughing, his wings beating the air and a sickening pace crushing the fumes into vile clouds.

Clutching her now bleeding head, Lenobia looked around at the sight in front of her. Zoey was battling hard and fast, element after element she was now hurling at Neferet with such viciousness it was obvious that the pain Neferet had caused her over the past few months, was now boiling over and finally allowed to take form. Damien had created such a high wind that Kalona was stopped from leaving the castle; though his wings beat steady and harsh he gained no distance from the battle. His beautiful features distorted in anger and he whirled around in mid-air searching for the conjurer of such a powerful, unforgiving wind. His gaze immediately came to rest on Damien, whose eyes looked wide and shone with terror.

Spreading his ebony wings, Kalona followed the direction of the wind and allowed it to propel him forwards, catching in his wings and lifting him higher still. Pushing with all his might, Damien called wind to stop Kalona from reaching him but his strength was wavering, already he was getting tired. Kalona battled easily with the force of the wind and descending quickly on Damien, the sharp dagger-like edge of his wing pointed straight at his heart. Only millimetres separated the sharp point of Kalona's wing and Damien's fear- frozen heart when Dragon's expert sword came slashing down, causing Kalona to cry out and jerk backwards against the wind.

Anastasia, Stark and Darius swung their rapiers expertly as they battled at least fifteen red fledglings that had appeared from the shadows. Spinning and lunging, deflecting and attacking Anastasia cut down three fledglings all in one. Stark's sword was thrown out of his hand and he crashed to the floor, a shattered wrist. Tears of agony burned his eyes and throat but he reached for his bow and arrow as the red fledgling pounced on him. Pacing an arrow into his bow faster than he thought possible he pulled back and thought of nothing but the creatures black heart. It crumpled upon him, her blood red eyes wide with shock before they glazed and became blank, dead.

Neferet had been bound but what looked like three elements. Ropes of green vines, orange fire and a blue flowing substance Lenobia guessed was water. Neferet was now screaming in agony as Zoey created a spirit bomb of love and goodness explode inside her. Love, Lenobia knew, was what had banished them. It caused Neferet pain because it was not something she was made to handle, it was a fire that seared her sinister heart.

Kalona threw his angered gaze over to A-ya, she looked as powerful as the Goddess herself. Gritting his teeth against the pain of his shattered wing he dived for Zoey, who was knocked sideways in the nick of time by Lenobia, a large rifle in her hands. Lifting his arms Kalona picked Lenobia up into the air, his large hands around her neck, bruising her flesh. The rifle had clattered to the floor. He applied pressure at the spot they both knew would snap the neck and instantly kill her but dropped her sharply as an electric shock tore through his body. Crying out in both rage and pain he swooped low once more, drew Zoey off her feet and flew out of the smashed window carrying her flailing body above the balcony.

Eliás dropped beside Lenobia, lifting her into his arms, a panic stricken expression on his handsome features. _Oh Nyx please let her be alright please..._

"Lenobia? Lenobia can you hear me?" He commanded urgently, unaware that Zoey was now flying through the air, frantic and helpless.

"I'm … fine. Just a few bruises nothing more. Zoey … where is Zoey?" Lenobia pulled out of his arms and stood too quickly, her face far paler than usual. She felt like she had been floored by a 19.2 and then double-barrelled for good measure. She swayed violently but Eliás' strong hands steadied her.

"Lenobia! He took her!" Shaunee cried, pointing through the broken glass window into the darkened sky above the patio on which she was now standing. Her cappuccino coloured face was filled with fear and hatred.

"I can get up there."

Lenobia looked to him as he were a grassroots pupil who had just asked if they could ride her unbroken three year-old. "What?"

Eliás was already flexing his fingers and centring himself. "I'll be fine." His voice was firm, sure and fierce, even though himself, he wasn't so sure. Pressing hard and allowing his electromagnetic fields to pulsate around him, Eliás lifted himself through the air and directly after Kalona. The cold wind breezed easily around him and caressed his cheeks as he rose higher and higher, leaving the fledglings and the other Vamps on the patio beneath him.

Raising his arms he threw a bright white ball of high voltage electricity at Kalona causing him to swerve in mid air to avoid it. Eliás threw another, faster and with more potential impact, aiming for his left wing. With a loud cry Kalona dropped Zoey, who fell to the patio with a sickening thud and a piercing shriek of pain. Kalona dived for her but Lenobia was already standing over her, protecting her, she fired bullet after bullet at him, causing him to veer and spin through the air. Eliás took his chance.

Rising even higher, so as to come to eye level with the fallen angel, Eliás sent shock after shock, wave after wave, of strong electrical current at the immortal, causing him to tremble and shout with anger and anguish. To his complete horror Kalona smiled evilly after dodging several attacks and let out a low, malevolent, malicious bark of laughter.

A drop of water landed on Eliás' cheek. He froze. The science was already buzzing around in his mind. Water. H2O. Two hydrogens, one oxygen. Two covalent bonds, two lone electron pairs. Impure, it was an electrical conductor, and had the second highest heat capacity of any known substance. More drops hit him, in a matter of seconds going from the odd one to being so thick that he could barely see through it. His skin crawled with dread as his clothes began to stick to him, the weight of the water forcing him to use more energy simply to keep himself up. He could already hear the steam rising off his skin and static shocks due to the charge induced in himself to do so.

If he struck again, he would electrocute himself. Kalona spread his wings wide and flew at incredible speed towards Eliás, whom was now completely defenceless.

Eliás took one final look towards the ground longingly, before facing the oncoming fallen immortal, who was speeding towards him. With an unflinching gaze he readied himself, his electricity shimmering just beneath the surface of his skin, already burning him. Kalona was mere yards away.

Panicking slightly as he looked into solid, sinful amber eyes, Eliás dropped several feet in the air just missing the outstretched hands of Kalona. When Kalona's body was directly above him, Eliás made a rope of electricity, winding it around Kalona and watching as it absorbed through his skin.

Rain pelted down fast and unrelenting as Kalona felt the torture of Eliás' power soaking into his pores. The electricity, instead of simply burning him as it had previously, was now stuck inside him with nowhere to go. As the rain come down upon this unrelenting electricity, stuck in limbo within Kalona, he realised he would fry.

Eliás rubbed his hands together and his palms glowed bright white, flicking his hands two long beams of electricity emitted from his palm, reaching halfway between Kalona and himself before a bloodcurdling cry pierced the night. The bubble around him flickered somewhat before vanishing. Eliás heard Kalona fall from the sky once more, writhing in pain upon the patio, and then little more.

Felling his veins clog with unwanted electricity Elias felt his body heat rise quickly as his affinity caught within him, with nowhere to go. His palms burned first, causing him to cry out. The anguish and torment began to rake his body, like a thousand daggers piercing his skin. Roaring as the sting in his eyes became an unbearable burn, Eliás curled in on himself in the air. The pain became far too much and he fell to the ground with a sickening crack, becoming caked in blood. But this blood was not his own, it was Zoey's.

Zoey lay, a small silver handle just visible in her chest, crumpled on Anastasia, the dagger releasing pints of blood that now covered the floor. Anastasia had tears running down her face as she held her High Priestess tight within her arms, rocking her and whispering words of comfort. Lenobia was pointing a rifle at a bound Neferet, who was also on the floor, but was encased in hot fire ropes created by Shaunee.

Eliás whimpered, his body throbbing with more pain than he had ever imagined possible, not far from Kalona's writhing form. His eyes teared as every neurone in him screamed, his heartbeat, all he could hear in his ears, was slowing. Blood filled his lungs, his head numbed into nothingness, a brain haemorrhage, bleeding through a cracked skull. His back burned against the stone floor. No amount of medicine would save him now, Eliás knew he was dying.

"_No._..." Lenobia gasped, as she watched Eliás fall from the black sky at a rate of knots. Her legs started numbly moving and she ran over to him – he wasn't moving, he wasn't breathing...

She knelt down on one knee next to him and began to fumble around in her pocket. She could actually smell burning flesh.

"Idiot." She scolded him, even though he couldn't hear her, rummaging through old tissues and bits of baling twine, "You fried yourself like a piece of meat!" She finally found what she was looking for. A penknife was always a necessity. She shouted for help as she realised that he couldn't drink if he didn't have a swallow reflex.

Laila had appeared out of nowhere, and was holding her hand over Eliás forehead before Lenobia had even registered that she was there. "Laila?" she said, "I thought you were staying behind the front line?"

With a concentrated look on her face, and not talking her eyes off her patient, she answered. "I know what it felt like when I thought I had lost my mate." She said, "I don't want any of you to lose yours."

"He's not my..."

"No..." Laila interrupted, "It's not an open wound..."

Lenobia's voice became faint. "What?"

"I can't heal it if it's not an open wound, not enough..." she said.

"Can do enough to you bring him around?" Lenobia knew it was near impossible, with someone so damaged, and he would be in so much pain when he did come around that she wondered if it was worth it.

"I'm trying..."

Finally Eliás began to stir, his eyelids twitching, his mouth tensing. "Get some blood down him fast. Otherwise we'll lose him again." Laila ordered, before sprinting off to attend to Zoey.

"What are you, planning on being served in a Chinese restaurant?"

He sighed, damp air filling his bleeding lungs. He closed his eyes slowly and then opened them again. "_Lenobia_..." he murmured, "_I had to..._"

She rolled up her sleeve and raised the blade.

"_Wait_..." he said, "_You don't have to_..."

"Eliás, you're _dying_." She begged him, tears coming to her eyes, "Let me help you..." she said, making a cut in her wrist. Imagining the pain he must have been in made her feel ill. She could see his eyes light up against his will as blood seeped form the wound, but still he didn't move. She sighed, and scratched her head awkwardly. "Look." She said, "My blood is, very uninteresting. It's never even caused an Imprint, so just drink it. If it saves your life, I don't care."

It was true. She didn't quite understand it, why she was unlike other vampyres who imprinted people left right and centre. It never bothered her at all, in fact she liked it. It meant that she didn't have a human trying to profess his love to her every five seconds. She truly believed that if one ever did, she would wring his neck. The perks of the actual drinking were still there, but she drank because she had to, not because she was trying to complicate her life further.

"I owe you my life!" she said desperately, "Please let me save yours!"

She lowered her cut wrist to his mouth, where a few drops fell onto his lips. He licked them warily, before finally giving in and sucking on the cut. Within the first few seconds, his skin regained its colour and the bruises she was sure were present on his back had faded into almost nothing. The strength in his muscles returned, and he gently raised his right hand to hold her wrist closer. She sat quietly, while the vibrations she could feel from him told her he was suppressing a moan. It did feel good, so much better than usual, and she gasped as a wave of pleasure sent tingles up her spine. Lenobia forced herself to ignore it. She supposed she was so used to it. It was mind over matter.

Eliás didn't like taking from her like this. As he drank from her something inside him had moved, something that had made way for pleasure to crash in as pain faded away. This was not how he ever imagined doing this, but even so, he couldn't have imagined it being better, yes it was a sexual feeling, but this was more of a spiritual fulfilment as well, leaving him feeling happy rather than just horny. He drew the blood into his mouth thirstily, ignoring the urges to get up and climb on top of her. He really didn't want to stop, but was dampened by the knowledge that he had to otherwise he might not be able to. He groaned and held her wrist away again as he pressed his arms to the stone and sat up gingerly, quote unable to believe how he could recover like that. He was weak, but he was in one piece, and he was alive.

"That bad?" she asked him, her eyes large. Once again, he admired her control, Nyx she was so so beautiful...

His entire body shuddered, and he paused simply to breathe. "No..." he whispered, "That good."

* * *

**R&R!**


	25. Dismissal

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

* * *

**Me: Sorry, long time no update, had a lot of things happening in my life lately and been working on the other fic as well, which always confuses me as if I do some work on one then I end up forgetting where I was with the other one. **_**Scarborough Fair **_**has so many different things I'm trying to put into it I'm forgetting some of them, and then forgetting how this one goes, so yeah, brain like a sieve.**

**TeaTime: Haha thanks, as always. Hope this one is just as believable!**

**Maddz: Thank you! There will be more of Jezinka and Prague in the chaps to come!**

**DawnFromTheDark: Haha I know I haven't made much fun of them here, but I will be in future chaps, Dallas will turn up at some point, with the Council wanting Eliás to teach him to control his affinity, which Eliás may or may not be too happy about haha. **

* * *

"You have some strange tastes in the Czech Republic."

"Not as many as the Germans."

"Come on." Said Lenobia, "We have a war to win."

"The Germans weren't too good at that either."

Lenobia looked murderous. "I know, it was merely satirical." He said, looking tactful for a moment. He was actually afraid to move, in case that the particular position he was already in happened to be the most comfortable, and that if he moved he would feel that pain again, his skull flattened and leaking, his consciousness seeping and waning. If he moved, would these feelings of comfort go away? He slowly flexed the muscles in his left leg first, and then the right, and then made a fractional turn of his neck. No amount of biology could explain this – to be dying, beyond any medical help or hope, and to be brought back to near full health by blood. Laila's affinity had been what had saved him first, granted, but Lenobia's blood had given him strength again, and he wondered briefly whether anyone else's would have done. She was covered in her own blood too, scraped, battered, bruised and bleeding, but she was alive. Thank Nyx she was alive...

They looked to each other, or rather, she looked to him and he responded. "Zoey." They said together, heaving themselves up.

Laila was holding her hand hovering over Zoey's wound, the silver dagger, shining red with her blood, was cast carelessly on the floor next to them. The wound was slowly disappearing, but it was taking far too long. The other three elements were holding, but Lenobia could see Earth's vines shrivelling and Spirit waning without Zoey's influence. Horror filled her eyes as she saw that Neferet was no longer secure...

"_Stop."_

And then Spirit was around them. Inside them, everywhere, with Zoey still on the floor. The voice went straight to the core of their beings, flushing out all of their hopes, fears, thoughts into a seemingly gushing river, leaving them calm. It was the strangest feeling any of them had ever encountered. There was a blinding flash of white light, one that almost seemed to knock Zoey back into consciousness. She lay, blurry-eyed and bruised, still over Anastasia's lap, gazing at the light. Neferet blinked twice slowly, her limbs going limp in their struggle against her bonds. The light, now glowing every single colour you could imagine, was taking a form, a female one. Through it emerged floor-length honey-blonde curls and waves, emerald green eyes, enough to hold a thousand seas, her skin was sun-kissed. "_Ach moye Bohyně..." _Eliás thought. This was Nyx, he was sure. What else could it be? So why on Earth, he asked himself as he watched on in awe, never letting Lenobia out of his sight, did Nyx look like Zoey?

"_Nyx..._" Zoey murmured, confusion printed on her face. As they heard it, all of them covered their hearts with their fists and hung their heads low.

The Goddess turned to Zoey, her smile so radiant that happiness filled her to the brim. _"Do not fear, my child." _She said, glancing down to Zoey's wound. Light surrounded it, and faded, leaving her skin and even her clothes unscathed. _"You have fought bravely." _

"_I don't understand..._" she said, feeling, shamefully, like she was looking in a mirror.

"_I did not wish to alarm you before." _Said the Goddess, _"This is my true form."_ She faced Neferet again, her green gaze not angry, not happy, simply blank. _"You will not harm her."_

Neferet chuckled. "You mean You will not harm Yourself?"

Nyx now wore a grim face. _"I am sorry." _She said simply, _"I was wrong."_ Her expression became angry, _"But that does not make you right!" _she saw Zoey get to her feet, and took two long strides back, removing Herself from between Zoey and Neferet, so the three stood as three points of a triangle. _"I want to explain to you why you have gone through so much." _She said. It wasn't addressed to either Zoey or Neferet. _"Long ago, I made the mistake of believing that, as an immortal, I could embrace Good by banishing Evil. My own Darkness. I banished the Darkness inside me away. Neferet is the part of me that I cast out."_

Zoey's mind reeled. "You mean, Neferet, is You?"

Nyx nodded. _"I was wrong. I understand now that it is not the ability to banish Evil that determines who you are. It is how you live with it and still embrace Good. Zoey..." _She said, _"A-ya. I am sorry. You have been through so much for me and yet you do not properly know why. Kalona was once my warrior. When I banished him, I also banished the part of me that loved him." _Zoey stared, and Nyx continued. _"Zoey, you are that part of me. You are my love, my grace, my power." _She looked as if she was about to cry, _"When I banished him, you followed him. I did not mean for you to."_ She smiled, _"You have taken on quite the life of your own."_

"But..." Zoey protested, "I can't be You! I'm not even a vampyre yet!" she began to speak more quietly, as if trying to fathom out why for herself, "I'm only mortal..." she said, her gaze so straight it sliced through the air between them, "Why have you gifted me like this? Nothing about me is special! I'm nothing against You, I... I just can't be!"

"_Precisely."_ Said Nyx kindly, _"You are the part of me that is human. You are the most valuable, the most precious. And the strongest. I would entrust my children to no one else." She turned to Neferet, "I think you've done enough damage for one lifetime." _

Neferet, as opposed to putting up a fight, as Eliás presumed she would, seemed to go dozy, sliding into unconsciousness, as did the exhausted Kalona. Their bodies glowed with a white radiance, and gradually, they began to disintegrate, like they were being corroded away into a thousand tiny sparks, the sparks filling the air around them like fireflies, dancing in the heat filled haze, like watching flecks of sparks rise from a bonfire. Not one of them could remove their eyes from the sight in front of them, not until every last piece was gone, all of them collecting into a ring, before pushing outwards, becoming fainter, and fainter, until there was nothing.

"What just happened...?" Zoey whispered, completely and utterly in the awe of the clarity and peace surrounding her.

Nyx smiled. _"I have also learnt, in my time, that love can outweigh any darkness. Even mine. If I had given her that in her first life, we might not have been standing here now."_

"Where did Neferet and Kalona go?"

"_I cannot undo what I have done, I cannot take back what I have given. Neferet, back to the Beginning. Completely reborn, with no memory of any of her lives. As she was in the Beginning, Marked from birth. But this time, she will be born to a family that will love and protect her. I truly believe that that can overcome the Darkness. Kalona..." _Her face looked a little more grim, _"He will not plague this Earth again for as long as he shall live." _She turned to the others to address them, _"Anastasia." _She said, causing the petite vampyre's head to snap up, _"I have some people who are very keen to see you."_

More little bright lights swirled in front of their eyes, the brightness reflecting off Anastasia's tear-stained face. She blinked a few times as they took transparent forms. Her hands covered her mouth briefly, before lowering again to just below her chin.

"Masha?" she said, her voice so faint it was barely there, "Alexej?"

Maria and Alexej both had massive grins plastered on their faces. "Nashtenka, long time no see!"

Eliás was confused. Maria, Alexej, Anastasia... The names of Tzar Nikolai's youngest three children, he remembered the Russian Revolution from when he was young, but Anastasia had been proved dead, proven to have perished with the rest of her family in 1917. So what magic was at work here? Had Anastasia been Marked, and was that how she had survived? What a story that would be. Had they been working all this time to save a Russian Grand Duchess?

Anastasia ran towards them, throwing her arms around them. When her arms didn't just travel straight through them and landed squarely on their backs, she was home.

"_I've missed you all so much..._" she whispered into the backs of their heads.

"_We've missed you too..."_ said Alexej, _"Maria is so boring!"_

"_I am not!"_ the Grand Duchess scowled, _"It's, strange not to be with you anymore..." _she said, stroking Anastasia's hair gently.

"Is everybody alright?" she asked them, coming out of the hug and gripping Maria on the arms.

"_They're fine now, we have all found peace."_

"Has Mama ever forgiven me?"

Maria shot an invisible glance at Dragon and beamed. _"No." _She said,_ "I don't think she ever will." _She giggled, _"But Mama never approves of anything, I wouldn't take it personally."_

She laughed. If Olga had married the King of Sheba Mama would have found something to disapprove of. "And Papa?"

Alexej clung like a limpet to Anastasia's side. _"He doesn't care." _He said, _"Not one bit. All he cares about is that you're alright and that you're happy. They send you all their love."_

Anastasia wiped tears away with her sleeve. "Tell them I love them too."

Maria read into Anastasia's face. _"Now was not your time to see them, Nastiya. Now is your time to live." _She said, as Anastasia stepped to the side, allowing Maria to talk to all of them. _"After all..." _she concluded, _"The name means 'she will rise again'. Resurrected."_ She touched her little sister on the shoulder. _"We have to go." _She said, giving her one last hug, _"We shall meet again, my sister." _

Going to Nyx's side, both Maria and Alexej began to disappear in the same way that Neferet and Kalona did. Maria was holding back tears, Alexej looked woeful, but smiled and waved at her. Anastasia waved back, standing on the platform, her eyes following the leaving train.

"_Thank you my children."_ She said, _"For what you have done for me." _

Zoey watched, tears in her eyes as she saw the same white light glow from beneath Nyx's skin, and as she went from solid, to transparent.

"Wait!" Zoey called, the tears running down her cheeks freely, "If I am You... I don't even know how to write a formal letter, or, or even use a tumble dryer or make scrambled egg! Tell me how I can be better, I need to know how to be better!"

Nyx gave a smile. _"All you need to do..." _She said, _"Is be you." _She held her hands out towards them all, as if inviting them to embrace her, _"Blessed be my children."_

She was gone.

A gust of wind from outside picked up pieces of broken furniture and shattered glass, blowing them across the cold stone ás had to admit: the lesson went out to more than one of them.

* * *

"All aboard."

The vampyre pilot made her way down the steps from the cabin, her crisp white shirt creasing in the breeze.

"We need to stay on schedule so as not to miss our airspace." She explained to them, smiling, "We need to go." Everyone dumped their hand luggage on the tarmac.

Lenobia stepped into Erce's open arms, hugging her friend tightly. The airport, barely even an airport, more a massive stretch of tarmac, shimmered in the illusion of air beating from the jets of the planes.

Lenobia patted Erce's back gently. "Thank you my friend."

Erce patted her back. "Any time Lenobia, make sure you come and visit me soon." She said warmly.

Everyone seemed to be forming a line, each one taking it in turns to shake hands and hug. Zoey, exhausted, but glowing with something that could only be described as victorious, embraced everyone she could find, anyone she could envelope in her arms, in an almost drunken episode. It still hadn't quite hit home. Neferet, Kalona, gone. Her thoughts went back to Heath. He was flying with them too, Lenobia had organised for his body to go with them back to his parents, but she couldn't help but think that this was her fault. Even when he told her it wasn't. She was suddenly having to hold back tears. He shouldn't be flying back in the cargo hold in a body bag. He shouldn't! He deserved to be alive! High Priestess Rosalina had already explained to the boy's parents what had happened, but that didn't make it alright. While everyone was saying goodbye to Erce and Eliás, Lenobia put her arm around Zoey's shoulder.

"I know what you're thinking, you know." She said sympathetically, giving the shoulder a rub.

Zoey looked away into the oncoming breeze. "Did your intuition tell you?"

Lenobia shook her head woefully. "There are times when we don't even need it."

"Hm." Zoey hung her head down, "You're a clever vampyre Lenobia."

"I'm not going to pretend to try and know what you've been through." She said, "But, death, isn't the end. Heath doesn't blame you. That's all that matters."

Zoey's mouth creaked into a smile. "Thanks."

"Go on." She reassured, as she let go of the fledgling and let her rejoin her friends.

As she saw the girl away, her ears detected the sound of footsteps approaching her from the side. Turning to face them, her gaze settled on Eliás Svboda. Cleaned up and changed, it was as if none of this had ever happened to him, like he had never hit concrete from a height at God knows how many miles per hour. As he stood there, he looked a little like a man at a funeral, who was trying not to show too much emotion but not quite managing it. She found herself wishing that he was coming back to Tulsa with them, not back to Prague. Would she ever see him again? She made herself breathe – what she would give for him to stay with her. He was the first man in such a long time that she respected enough, to possibly let him into her life, and now he had to disappear again. _"Damn you..."_ she thought, why did he have to come into her life again like this? With what happened in Prague all those years ago, why did Nyx want them to meet twice?

"So I guess this is goodbye." She said, smiling as the gentle wind blew her hair around her shoulders.

"I guess it is." He said, in a way that combined matter-of-fact with cheek. He took a more serious tone. What on Earth was he supposed to say to her now? His stomach was completely absent, and then he felt physically sick as he realised that finally, he was losing her again. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_." She said, holding out her hand. Taking his wrist in a firm grasp, she shook it slowly, "Merry meet, merry part."

"And merry meet again." He finished.

The jets were firing up. The Tulsa plane was scheduled to leave first, before the Prague plane, and the cabin crew ushered the passengers onto the aircraft, checking seatbelts and shutting the overhead lockers. Lenobia's hand felt horribly cold against the metal of the handrail up the steps, not looking back over her shoulder as she went. Life, as she had always believed, was far better kept simple.

* * *

Eliás watched to see if he could see her through one of the jet's tiny windows as it began to head towards the runway, but he couldn't. He never imagined that this could bother him as much as it did. He was about to lose her again. But what could he do? Both of them still had responsibilities on their respective continents. He was a High Priest of Nyx, in charge of the Prague House, his duties to the House were infinitely more important than his own simpering wishes. He mentally hit himself. She could accept that, why couldn't he?

He felt a hand on his shoulder, which was followed by Erce's voice. "Are you okay?" she asked him.

"I'm fine." He told her.

"You sure are a stubborn guy aren't you?"

"Stubborner than a constipated mule."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not the most important thing in my life." He said, "Even if I'm supposed to be, I'm just not."

* * *

The take-off completely passed her by. Trying to shut out the sound of the engines and the chattering behind her, she took deep breaths and tried to sleep. Sleep wasn't coming. Not now, probably not until she was so exhausted she dropped. Fidgeting in her seat, she kept trying to find a position that was comfortable. None were. Finally giving up about an hour into the flight, and slightly curious as to the lack of chatter coming from behind, she peered around the edge of her seat into the isle. She smiled. So many happy endings. Dragon and Anastasia were asleep in each other's arms, their faces peaceful and content, their journey finally done. Complete, as were their souls once more. She reflected on the thoughts she had had just after Anastasia had been taken. Wondering, trying to imagine what was going through Dragon's head, and more importantly his heart. Leaving the key in the lock of the rapier case. Letting him decide. She could very well have come down to another lifeless corpse the next morning. The sight of them now simply made her want to chuckle. Then there was Loren and Laila. A pairing Lenobia did not fully understand, she did not even think they themselves understood it, least of all Loren. They were sitting together, Laila's head was lolling against Loren's chest, she was out for the count. Loren however, was awake, and was looking down at her, in a way that was nearly fond. His fingers were entwined in her hair, like he could be nursing a sleeping child. How awkward it must be to love without wanting to. Without even having the heart for it. Maybe Loren had not been so weak after all. It didn't make him a better person, it didn't justify, it just explained. Just that. If anything was going to change him, it would be her. Aphrodite and Darius weren't even worth looking at, unless you were into muted porn. Damien and Jack were asleep too, and Zoey and Stark, well, were falling asleep still. Only the Twins made the slightest bit of sound, and even that was hushed for the sake of their fellow passengers.

Lenobia sighed and sat back in her seat. She was already formulating a list of things she had to do when she got back. Book the farrier, call the vet for flu and tet vaccinations, order in more glucosamine and chondritin MSM, they were low on magnesium supplies, book flights to get to the postponed Hengstschau in Nord-Rhein Westfalen, if she could hopefully making time to see her good friend Isabell Werth and her baby son. She even began to list the jobs that she knew Juliane would have already done, like lunging the new youngster and poulticing a puncture wound on one of the schoolmasters.

It was far too easy, when one is half asleep, to think of things that are completely unnecessary, unrelated, sometimes even surreal. Glimpses of the young Czech High Priest floated around behind her eyelids. She felt a little glimmer of superiority, an inkling of satisfaction, because she could read him like an open book, when no one else could. They were very similar, he and she. Both strict, pedantic, immaculate. All be it for different reasons. She was like that because, as a horsewoman, that's the way things were done. It wasn't for any particular reason other than that, it was simple and easy, and even so, it was more than most of her third form students ever managed to grasp. Was perfection really too much to ask for? She pondered. Eliás was different. She could tell, from his reaction to spilling the coffee, to the way he presented himself, to his posture, his general indulgence, that his strive for perfection was not rooted there. It stemmed from fear. Fear that one wrong move, one hair out of place, one day off, might result in his dismissal from his position. His ambition, his utter willingness to endeavour was phenomenal. He was fully worthy of sitting at the same table as the High Priestesses. Nyx had gifted him for a reason, and Lenobia was only just beginning to see the beauty of these reasons. She felt incredibly honoured, and considered herself lucky to have met him.

So why now, as she left her home-continent once again, was something telling her otherwise? Why was she completely empty inside? Her mind flashed back to merely hours ago, when they had so nearly kissed. He had loved her. He had loved her as a Nazi soldier, as an outcast, as a cripple. She wanted to know what it was like to kiss him, to hold him, to wake up next to him in the morning. And now she would never know.

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**R&R!**


	26. Kindred Spirits

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Hey guys! This is the first chapter I've finished since starting university. I love it here, but there's lots of work, so updates will then be even scarcer than they are now, but I'm gonna try and finish this one! **

**Malicia: Thank you for your lovely review!**

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_20__th__ June, 2015_

_Eliás_

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Hm, third formers, Eliás thought. What it was like to realise that you were turning into a vampyre... And while he remembered vividly the feeling, the panic and the wonder, the visual elements had almost escaped his memory for good. He didn't remember the drive to the House of Night or any conversations that might have taken place just then, all he remembered was feeling wrenched, away from everything he knew. It wasn't a feeling he liked to inflict on modern teenagers, but it still had to be done.

The Czech House had thirty trackers, all on standby for the day. The twenty-first of June, 2015, 16:38pm. That was when all the fledglings in the world would be Marked. At Summer Solstice, when the Earth's axis was at its greatest tilt towards the Sun. It was a strange time to create fledglings, who of course hated sunlight, but it was always Summer Solstice, every, single, year. Everyone knew it. Everyone with a child aged between fourteen and sixteen, would be waiting with bated breath and horror in their eyes at 16:37pm, waiting. Waiting to see whether or not they would lose their children.

Eliás sighed. If they had an intake of more than fifty this year he was going to have a problem. And most of the rooms needed refurnishing, and yet again, they had no time to do it.

"Another year eh Jezinka?"

The swan, who was now ancient but somehow still alive, waddled up beside him and let him stroke her large white head fondly. It was like having a dog, only better. He rubbed her feathers on her back – it was strange to have a swan as a friend.

"So this must be your swan?"

Eliás jumped out of his skin, almost falling off his chair. He definitely hadn't let anyone into the room! Looking up, he saw a beautiful petite woman, with brown hair and blue eyes. She smiled in a friendly way, and it took him a second or two to relax.

Anastasia Lankford stood in front of him, black suit and purple striped shirt crisp and smart. He had briefly forgotten that there were spells that could teleport people around, and he had also forgotten that she was anything if not a mistress of magic.

"Anastasia?" he spluttered, trying to overcome his shock of her sudden appearance in his study.

"Sorry to barge in like this." Anastasia apologised somewhat unearnestly, sitting down in the chair opposite him, "But I had something to discuss with you and thought it would be best said face to face."

"Most people use doors."

Anastasia sighed, a fed up expression on her face, and waved her hand in a circle, disappearing into thin mist.

"Anastasia?" said Eliás. There was a knock on the door and he rolled his eyes, "Oh don't be like that!"

The door opened and she strode back in. "Morning."

"Is knocking beneath you now?"

"I'm Russian." she said. And, there was that.

"So what can I do for you? - Before you point a gun at my face."

Eliás liked Anastasia. She had become the new High Priestess of the Tulsa House after Neferet had been defeated. She had been a perfect choice, she was powerful, intuitive, clever, and sweet. She was one of the few High Priestesses that weren't either afraid of him or disliked him. They treated each other as equals, and while Anastasia's power was not as strong as Eliás', hers was more versatile, could be used to make anything happen, as opposed to being restricted to electricity. She could make it rain, which seriously deducted his ability to conduct electricity through himself, but it didn't mean that he couldn't psionically control lightning and electric field that weren't touching him in the rain. It gave him a little comfort, she would have to move fast to defeat him, if ever they were to fight to the death. Most wouldn't stand a chance and they knew it.

"Well, as you know the fledglings that survived the rejection of the Change - the Red Fledglings - have had one or two changees of their own."

"Red vampyres."

She nodded. "They undergo their Change at a much faster rate than the normal fledglings, the change apparently occurs within a few months. The Tulsa House of course is caring for all such fledglings and vampyres, but there are a few examples of those struggling to control their affinities."

"As do normal fledglings."

"One boy who made this Change a few years ago is still grappling with his. The only thing is, he's only just been released from a prison sentence."

"Oh?"

"For striking someone with lightning."

Eliás was fairly sure his jaw was dropping and so promptly closed it. "Oh." he said. For decades now he had been so used to being the only person with this gift. For so long he had been the only person who knew what it was like to be him.

She nodded. "Yes. It happened while we were in San Clemente, I think, anyway, no serious injuries but it sure as Hell didn't happen by accident." I nodded, "I think he could benefit from being taught to control it better."

"And you had hoped that I might offer?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"Can he speak Czech?"

"Not, that I am aware."

"Then he'll be at a bit of a loss in the Czech Republic won't he?"

"What do you think?"

He sighed, and told her what he thought. "Anastasia, I am fully supportive of your trying to help this kid, I really am. But this affinity is extremely dangerous. I'm not comfortable teaching Electrokinesis to someone who may use it to hurt people."

She sighed. Dallas had none of Eliás' power nor his talent, but he was still blessed with this affinity.

"A tiny electric field in the wrong place can be fatal." he said, "Is he intelligent?"

"Average, I gather."

I explained it to her. "Electrokinesis is not so much about your total power as about what you know of it, it's all about science, physics, chemistry, I can use my affinity in the ways that I do because I know exactly how I can use it and to what effect. I had to study for decades and I'm still learning. I refuse to take on someone who is a danger to my students and my staff."

It was true. Eliás hadn't told anybody this yet, but recently, he had been just beginning to control sky lightning. Yes, it was caused by air currents, but it was a static charge that was created by those air currents, one which he could still manifest. But, to be able to control a charge so far away from him, to such a precise point... It was big stuff, even for him. Vampyres did become stronger with age, but he briefly wondered how much stronger he would get before it started to get silly. It was already silly...

"Would it matter if I begged you?" she said, "He needs this, Eliás."

Eliás wasn't sure that he himself did though. "If he comes..." he began, "He has twenty-four hour surveillance. And, if he slips up once?" he swiped his finger across his throat in a slitting motion, "He's gone. Clear?"

"Crystal." She said, smiling brightly. "Thank you so much Eliás!"

"Just a quick question..." he said, scratching his ear, "Am I the only man on the planet who isn't a complete sucker for you? It's just you seem ever so accustomed to getting your own way."

She grinned like a Cheshire cat as she leant forward and got up out of the chair. "Oh you're not a sucker for me Eliás. You're just a sucker for my staff."

She hit a chord with that. As he sat there listening to the vibrations of his strummed heartstrings, he almost didn't see her turn and raise her hand, presumably to leave.

"Wait..." he said, causing her to turn around, "How's Lenobia?"

Anastasia looked reassured. "Well." she said, "Very well."

He let the cold air fill his lungs. "Good." he said. It was all he could manage. Eliás didn't think, not by a long shot, that he had ever been so in love with anyone as he had been those five years ago. It hurt so much to think about her. If he could distract himself sufficiently, the memories of her dulled a little. No other woman had ever looked so attractive to him as she did, none could make his heart beat like that on the mere hearing of a name.

She walked back over to his desk and leant on the front of it with her hands. "She misses you." she said, watching for his reaction as she said it, "She was low for months after we got home." there was a brief pause, which he couldn't bring himself to fill, "Why..." she asked, "Why, have you forced yourselves apart? When you clearly like each other? Why don't you two ever give yourselves a break?"

"Because both of us have greater concerns than ourselves, Anastasia."

"That I understand." she said, "But allowing yourself to love costs nothing." she said, raising an eyebrow suspiciously, "Or is this just a little battle, you against you, trying to prove to yourself that you can control your emotions, yourself?" he was completely silent, "Have you spoken to her?"

He broke eye contact with her out of shame. "No."

"Eliás why?"

"I can't open old wounds again, Anastasia." He said, "It hurts too much."

"It doesn't have to hurt." She said quietly, "You're making it hurt."

And with that she was gone, disappeared into a thin blue-ish mist, and he was alone again.

* * *

Anastasia teleported herself straight back to the staff room, where Lenobia was sitting, sipping a cup of coffee in silence. The entire room was empty, the lights dimmed in the evening light, and the Horse Mistress, with dark circles beneath her eyes, looked as if she hadn't slept in days.

Anastasia passed her as she headed for the kettle herself, looking at her silent and forlorn friend. "I did offer you the chance to go." She said as she brushed past her and turned the kettle on. Lenobia didn't look up from her mug, and didn't even say anything. Anastasia threw a teabag at her mug with a vengeance. "He loves you!" she said, waving her spoon in the air at Lenobia, "He's crazy for you! Which I suspect you are for him, and you just sit there and do bugger-all, like you don't care."

"I do care." She said, looking up from her coffee, her words cutting through the silence like a knife, "I do care, Nas."

Anastasia sighed. "I want to respect your decision, but I find that hard when it hurts you so much."

"How would you feel..." Lenobia began, "If you met Dragon, your soulmate, and fell in love, like you did, and then you had to go back to Russia?"

"He'd come with me."

"What if he couldn't?" she asked her, "What if it would hurt hundreds of people if he did? And what if you could never return?"

"You could have horses in the Czech Republic Lenobia. You love Europe, you've always said so."

"But this is my home." She said, "And I have a duty to the horses here, to my staff, to my clients. To up and run away to Europe would ruin me, and I'd let my friends down. Anastasia, if you and Dragon were forced to live apart, and you knew you'd have to, and you knew the pain it would cause you, and you _do _understand that Anastasia, wouldn't you at least try and spare yourself that pain, and him?"

"He's in pain now." She said sombrely, "You haven't stopped that pain."

"But we have lessened it. We'll get over it."

"You may not." Anastasia muttered. "What if you're soulmates?"

"We'd be dead from lack of blood by now if we were."

"It could just be a slow-working Imprint."

"I think I'd know if we were." She said. It was true. Anastasia hadn't really recognised it when she was younger, then again she had been naive to vampyres and imprinting. An older vamp would definitely now, having had something to compare it with.

"Is that why you don't want to go?" Anastasia asked her, halting her spoon inside her tea mug, "Because you're afraid that if you see him you might know?"

"If I went..." she said, her voice as dull as her face, a silent tear slipping unnoticed down her cheek, "He'd never let me go."

* * *

The red vampyre arrived three days later, and for the life of him he looked like a convict. Badly shaven and ill-kempt, he wore a plain, grungy white T-shirt and a mucky pair of jeans, and Eliás suspected that his self-respect was equally as untidy. So was this the only other vampyre in the world like him? Suddenly being him wasn't such a great thing. It was strange that once more this affinity had been given to a man. He was almost grimacing, but as he approached Eliás he smiled a little, and Eliás knew that he was felling extremely small right now. Good.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Svboda." He said, extending his hand for Eliás to shake.

"Yes it is." He replied, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. He was a doctor, twice, not just a 'Mr', and Dallas should know that. He could just about make eye-contact through Dallas' long and disgusting fringe. "You must be Dallas."

"Anastasia has told me a lot about you." He said.

Eliás nodded. "Likewise." He retaliated, "And I'm sure she's already briefed you on my conditions of having you here." The man said nothing, "One little slip up and you're out, do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely sir."

Eliás smiled. "Well then," he held out his hand to the side, "Shall we?"

Eliás gave the younger vampyre some time to unpack before requesting him for his first lesson. Quite frankly, Eliás didn't want him under his shoes for too long, he didn't think he had the time to teach him as well as the fledglings once the new term started, although Anastasia hadn't specified a time limit. Eliás had asked Dallas to meet him in the fencing hall, after having taken quite a lot of time to persuade Anděl that the building wouldn't be destroyed in the process. Eliás only hoped that he had been right.

Dallas entered the hall ten minutes late. "You sent for me Mr. Svboda?" he said.

Eliás, to say the least, was unimpressed. "I'm actually a doctor." He said in a very sour voice.

"You're a vampyre doctor?"

He sighed. "No, I mean I have a doctorate, in fact I have two but that's beside the point."

Dallas seemed to have got the message. "Oh. Sorry, Dr. Svboda."

"That's better." He said, "I won't ask why you're ten minutes late."

"Haha..." he said, "Sorry."

Eliás raised an eyebrow. "Right." He said, "The point of this session is to show me what you can do, and my Swordmaster would be grateful if you would take care to preserve the architecture, as would I."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, shrugging and sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Anything."

Dallas eventually raised a hand from his pocket and sent a bolt of lightning straight at Eliás. The force, however small it was, would have thrown any other vampyre off their feet and sent them hurtling, it would certainly have killed a human, but Eliás body simply neutralised that charge as soon as it entered him, meaning he didn't so much as flinch as the bolt hit him. Dallas watched wild eyed as Eliás laughed.

"Is that it?" he said, "This is a lightning bolt."

Eliás lifted his hand and struck Dallas with ten times the voltage, sending him flying and landing on the wooden floor boards with a smack.

Winded, Dallas rubbed his head as he tried to scrape himself off the floor. "Fuck me..." he said.

"And that, says it all."

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"You promised me you wouldn't do any damage!"

Eliás turned around. "It wasn't much damage."

Anděl wiped his brow. "I don't believe it."

"He was annoying me." Said Eliás, "At least he knows now what he'll get if he tries anything funny."

"You'd floor him?"

"No, he just needs to think I will."

"I don't know Eliás." Said Anděl, doubt written across his features, "The fact that that kind of discipline is even necessary doesn't sound good to me."

"I agree with you, but it was a warning, not discipline, he actually hadn't done anything wrong up to that point, except forget who I am, but I'm not teaching him to be me, I'm just teaching him to be safe."

"Humans try to teach horny teenagers to be safe but the rate of abortions in teenage girls is always rising. And a teenage girl is precisely what you have there."

"Can you imagine how high the rate of teenage pregnancy would be if vampyres and fledglings were fertile?" said Eliás, throwing that thought into the conversation.

"Astronomical no doubt, just try to leave my hall standing?" he said, as they came to the part of the corridor where they went their separate ways.

"I'll try."

* * *

"So how did you end up in prison?" Eliás asked as he sat opposite Dallas at dinner that morning.

Dallas swallowed the piece of steak that he was eating. "I shocked someone." He said, shrugging, "My girlfriend at the time."

"What happened?"

"She rescued one of those disgusting Raven Mocker things and tried to defend it." He said, stabbing at his fried tomato causing it to semi-explode, "I lost my temper."

"Was it an accident?"

Dallas looked at him. "No it wasn't." He said, "I meant it alright. I never thought that human courts would get caught up in vampyre scuffs."

"If that had been a human, they would be dead."

"It barely hurt her." He said, "She's a Red Vampyre, the first in fact, she doesn't bruise easily."

Eliás' face remained straight. "You're talking about Stevie-Rae Johnson."

"Yeah. Five years in a plastic prison, all because of her." He stabbed a piece of bacon.

"Do you have anything plastic?"

Dallas nodded and pulled an American lighter out of his pocket. Concentrating, Eliás began using miniscule electromagnetic waves to rearrange the molecules in the plastic, making them marginally more polar, and then creating waves around it to lift the lighter out of Dallas hand, and landing it lightly in his own.

Dallas watched in amazement, forcing his mouth shut as there was food in it. "How'd you do that?" he said.

"It's a combination of physics and chemistry." He said, "It's complex, it took me years to learn it."

"Can you teach me?"

Eliás frowned. Teaching him to manipulate plastic would mean that should he ever acquire another prison sentence, plastic wouldn't hold him, and Eliás strongly doubted that he had the mental capacity to learn the science anyway.

"You're not here to learn party tricks." He said, putting the lighter squarely in the palm of his hand, "You're here to learn to use your gift safely. Anastasia wants to give you a second chance and so do I."

"So how do you know Anastasia?" he asked.

"We worked together in San Clemente."

"Oh right! She was there? That was when you shot down Kalona wasn't it?"

"So why is it you know everything about me all of a sudden?"

"I did some research after I got here..." he said, "You're on WikiVamp."

Eliás blinked. "I'm on Wikipedia?"

Dallas nodded whilst filling his mouth again. "Oh yes."

"Not for much longer I'm not..."

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**R&R!**


	27. OverKill

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Hi all. Sorry, long time no write. I'm back for Christmas now, so survived first term of uni! Also sorry this is kinda a short chapter, I originally wrote this one and the next one as one chapter but then it got long and I split it in two. Lemme know what you all think! Next one should be up very soon.**

**There are new videos for this fanfic on YouTube – the username is the same one as my ffdotnet username, I set up a new account as I'm on my third life copyright-wise on the other one. One is to "Your Biggest Mistake", by Ellie Goulding, which I thought fitted this story quite well, and the other one, which I've just finished and looks fab was uploaded earlier but was blocked on copyright grounds, that one was to "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry. ****Really annoyed about it as I'm so proud of it. **

**So, the video has been reuploaded on Dailymotion, you can find it under the username Seryphael. Hurry before the trolls take it down!**

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_Dallas_

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Dallas was extremely bored this morning. The entire Czech Republic was boring. He had absolutely why Prague was supposed to be the place to go these days – it was a lame-fest. There was nothing to do, and not being able to understand anyone wasn't exactly a plus. He flicked his lighter on and off, watching the bright orange flame snap into and out of life. If he dropped it right now and set fire to the room – he wondered what kind of listed building this was? Grade I surely. What if all this history, these wooden panels and delicate tapestries, all went up in flames? He snorted to himself. He could have that amount of power in his hands. Eliás had power. 'Most powerful male vamp alive' – eh? Dallas wondered, if Eliás was here right now, and he threatened to drop the lighter, would Eliás beg him not to? What would he do to preserve all this? That would be a sight. Dallas wallowed in the daydream – to make Eliás grovel? Surely a feather in his cap, no one would mess with him then.

Dallas hated Eliás. They were basically exactly the same, same affinity. But Eliás was powerful, popular and prudent. Whatever he said went, he could have the Vamp Council at his fingertips if he wanted to, it was like whatever he did he couldn't put a foot wrong, everything he did or said was perfect. He could use his affinity to do anything, fucking anything, and he seemed to take delight in remaining smug whilst refusing to teach it to Dallas. He treated him like just another fledgling. And he was just another godforsaken teacher. However, in all probability, Eliás was Dallas' only ticket back to Tulsa, his only way back to Stevie-Rae, and for that reason and that reason only, that was the way it was going to have to stay.

Dallas heaved himself off his bed and took himself for a walk around the grounds. The sun wasn't up yet and he needed to clear his head. The grounds here were fucking huge – who needed all this space? It looked like it was actually made for a monarch. He actually took pleasure in kicking the neatly spread gravel of the paths around the fountains onto the neatly cut grass, it was just a little bit of disarray in this very perfect royal world. You could see the entire of Prague from here – the castle being up on a hill, like an island looking out over the sea. You wouldn't even have thought to look any further because of the grounds, you'd never think to lift your head and look beyond at the city. It wasn't as good as it was cracked up to me. And the Riding School... Talk about over-kill. Dallas wondered if their ES professor was as shit-scary as Lenobia. Answer: probably not. That was a particularly hard act to follow. Going around the back of the stables, he found a field with two or three horses turned out, grazing, standing still. Pff... This was still boring. Maybe...

Dallas snapped his fingers, and one of the horse suddenly very violently kicked and took off across the field. Jesus those things could move fast. It was only a little shock, like a cattle prod on its behind, that's all. Just to make it run. He found he could control which way it went my which side of it he shocked. This is like what cowboys spent their lives doing, riding rodeo.

Dallas felt something grab hold of his coat from behind, turn him around and slam him into the fence hard. He might as well have been staring into the flaring nostrils of an angry bull. He didn't think he'd ever seen a vamp look quite so angry.

"_What in the seven Hells do you think you're doing?"_

The vamp was very tall, lanky, thin and blonde, dressed in horsey clothes and had a horsey Mark.

"Woah woah hey! Easy man!"

"_How dare you?"_

The vamp grabbed him by the collar and quite literally heaved him off his feet into the air and threw him through the air against a tree fifteen metres away. Dallas let out a yell as his back hit the bark and the air was knocked out of him. Hitting the ground with a jolt he saw the vampyre walk briskly towards him, his face just as livid.

"Get out of my sight! Before I call Eliás down here!" he shouted, his hand pointing towards the main building, "Now!"

Dallas got to his feet, anger boiling beneath his lid. He'd quite happily shock this skinny vamp for throwing him into a tree, but if he did, Eliás would know. He seethed – even this man had power over him by default! No matter quite how it tortured his pride to walk away at that moment, it would have to be that, for now, the horsey guy had won.

* * *

_Eliás_

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* * *

_

Things had gone from bad to worse.

And Eliás was running down the halls again.

Nothing really changed in sixty years did it?

For the past week, he really thought he had been making some progress, he really did. Why did these people have to go and ruin it for him, all the time? Was it their sole purpose to make his life as difficult as possible? Running out into the early morning mist he began to see his breathe condense in front of his face. The Riding School, despite the early morning, was usually busy at this time of day, Friedrich always started at the crack of dawn and ensured that his staff and pupils did likewise, but today, as Eliás ran through the Riding School, once home to the King's horses in the days of old, it was like running through a ghost town. Like everyone had upped and abandoned the place, and a small tear came to Eliás' eye as the reason why lingered around in his head.

The outdoor school was crowded with people, Friedrich's staff, students, and other general people who had noticed the commotion. Eliás pushed his way through the crowd, who were being kept back by Silvija, the yard's Head Girl. Eliás saw a large round shape on the ground, which he quickly recognised as a horse. Friedrich's familiar was never a cat, never had been. It had always been a big liver-chestnut coloured stallion, for years, when one passed on, the next would always be a big liver-chestnut stallion. And this horse, Friedrich's favourite, his familiar, fully tacked up, was lying there, as still as Death itself. There were no impulses in the heart or brain – the animal was dead. Friedrich was lying on the ground not far from it, his body also lifeless and still. The medical team, along with Veronika, had arrived even quicker than he had, thank Nyx, and Eliás could just detect a faint heartbeat within the man's chest – he was alive, but only just.

"Silvija..." he said, quite unable to tear his eyes away from Friedrich, "What happened?"

"No one knows..." she said, one of the lads came out here to work a horse and found them. I've called the vet."

"The horse is dead."

She sighed. "I know. But we need to know how it died, a vet can do a post mortem."

"Of course." He said. Silvija was right, it was like the horse had just dropped down dead, and yet Friedrich wasn't crushed, having said he wasn't wearing a hat, he could have hit his head on landing. He left Silvija and went to Veronika, "How is he?"

"Bad." She said, "As you might have guessed."

"Do we have any idea what might have caused it?"

"He's out cold, and his heart beat is all over the place. That's all we can tell you for now. We'll know more when we can get him back to the Infirmary."

Eliás didn't know what he would do if Friedrich died. That man was like his father, had been his father for so long... The world just wouldn't be the same.

Veronika noticed his silence. "He's alive." She said, "And he's a tough cookie. It's interesting, the horse didn't throw him clear, it's like it just went straight down without warning."

"He'll be heartbroken." He said. Friedrich loved his horses, especially this one. Eliás swallowed the lump in his throat; Friedrich would be heartbroken if he ever came around.

With that, he turned to Silvija. "Tell the vet we can afford anything necessary." He said, "And tell him he can phone me with the results. We need to know what happened."

* * *

"_Oh hello is that Dr. Svboda?"_

"Speaking."

"_Hi there it's Alec the vet calling."_

"Hi." He replied.

"_We have the results for the equine post mortem examination you requested." He said, "Basically, on examination the horse had quite severe internal burns, histological examinations of burned tissue show an advanced neuropathy in the central and peripheral nervous systems. You don't keep these horses next to a pilon or an electrical supply unit?"_

Eliás leant forward in his chair, pressing his phone to his ear. "Are you telling me..." he asked, "That this horse died of electrocution?"

* * *

Eliás took the porter's masterkey with him and marched with a vengeance to the first guest room, where he jammed the key into the lock and jerked it with his wrist, almost wrenching the lock broken. Dallas was lying on his bed, cigarette between his lips, puffing smoke rings at the ceiling. When he saw Eliás his face was one of offence. In that small moment, everything about that morning that Dallas didn't want Eliás to see, Eliás' intuition told him, like a loud whispering in his ear.

"What the Hell man?" he said.

"Get up."

"What?"

"_Get up!_"

Reluctantly, Dallas stood.

"Weren't you told that you can't smoke in here?"

Focussing on the paper, Eliás increased the charge, and the paper and tobacco went up in a bright red flame, burning Dallas on the hand.

"Ow fuck!" he shouted, "That's out of order!"

"I'll tell you what's out of order Dallas." Said Eliás, stepping closer to the pathetic man, "Killing because you can't have your sweet little way!"

"Mate no that's not what happened..."

"Don't you _dare_ speak back to me!"

"Whoa whoa whoa man take it easy! It's just a horse!"

Eliás saw red. "Just a horse?" he hissed, electric bolts sparking around his hands, "There's a man in hospital, very nearly dead! He may never walk again! That horse meant the world to him!"

"Just listen!"

"No, Dallas, I won't, and there's very little point in you trying because I'm putting you straight back on a plane to your plastic jail cell!"

Eliás only just paused for long enough to listen to himself – where was this anger coming from? It was huge, like a fire that started from an unidentified point inside him and proceeded to set his skin alight. He was angry enough to start breaking furniture and scream at the top of his lungs. Something wasn't right about this – Eliás could usually control his anger, put a lid on it, or use it productively, but this made him mad to an extent which he had never reached before, one which actually frightened him. He clenched his fists to try and stop them from shaking visibly.

"What the fuck is it with you people?" Dallas screamed, "I'm not a fledgling no more! Why'd you keep trying to lock me away?"

"Because you're a nasty piece of work who thoroughly deserves it!"

"I'm not going back in there again!" he yelled, as he began to make a break for the door, between him and which Eliás stood, "Move!" he shouted, "Move the fuck out of the way!"

Dallas sent a bolt of lightning full pelt at Eliás, which Eliás simply absorbed into the palm of his hand. Dallas attempted to throw Eliás out of the way, but Eliás grabbed the red vampyre and pushed him to the floor, to which he fell with a thud and rolled into the end of the bed. He froze for a moment, before making a mad dive for the front end of the bed, like he was desperate for something that he'd hidden there. A second was all it took for him to produce a very sharp steak knife and get up again, pointing it at Eliás. Little bugger, Eliás thought, he must have nicked that from the kitchen.

"Move!" Dallas demanded again, moving forwards with the knife, the steel blade shining even in the dim light. "I'm warning you..." he took a swipe at Eliás, and another, and another, coming dangerously close to Eliás, torso – he had to take a few steps backwards. Eliás made a grab for the knife, holding it back from him as Dallas repeatedly tried to push it forwards. More powerful than Dallas Eliás may well have been, but physically stronger than Dallas, Eliás wasn't so sure he was. The knife shuddered in their combined grasp, its tip aimed at Eliás' stomach.

"Dallas stop!"

Dallas' eyes glinted with something too inhuman even for a vampyre to understand, and suddenly, Eliás felt the freezing steel of the knife cut deep into him just below his last left rib. His hand's grasp around the knife slipped and ceased, and Dallas pulled the knife out, letting blood spurt onto the floor in pools. Eliás shook, biting back whimpers of pain as he gingerly lifted his hand to the wound to try and stop the blood pouring out.

"I'm not going to live in your shadow forever!"

His eyes followed the path of the knife as it travelled above Dallas' head within his hand, and Eliás realised what choice he had. And with a final mammoth effort, he delivered one last invisible electric shock to Dallas' brain.

Eliás fell to the floor bleeding, and Dallas fell down dead.


	28. Turbulence

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Okay, the trolls have taken the video off Dailymotion as well. So not a happy bunny. Oh well. If you do want to see the video, let me know and I can send it to you guys. Damn WMG! **

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A few hours later, Eliás awoke inside the Infirmary to the sound of a fierce wind battering at the thin windows, his normal clothes replaced with hospital pyjamas, and a surgical dressing over his stomach. His head hurt like no tomorrow, and whilst making a mental note that the anaesthetic chemicals for vamps could probably do with a bit of tweaking, Eliás groggily wiped his eyes of the drug-induced sleep, and sat up a little, the numbed pain yanking on his wound as he did so, but that wasn't what bothered him quite so much. Not so much as the fact that he had woken up painfully thirsty.

"Veronika!" he called, Jesus his voice was weak, his throat dry.

The bustling nurse appeared from inside the Infirmary drug store. "Ah I'm glad you're awake." She said, "Right on schedule. How are you feeling?"

"Can I have a blood drip?" he asked.

"Let me just top you up on painkillers."

Eliás rubbed his forehead as his vision swam and his response came out far more viciously than he originally intended. "Veronika I _need _a blood drip, please _get_ me a _blood_ drip!" he growled, like he was telling off a fledgling that was pushing their luck when he had a splitting headache. Jesus why was it this windy outside? Not usual for this time of year, and neither was the nasty dark cloud that he could just see when he looked out of the window. It sent a shiver up his spine.

Veronika looked almost hurt by his curt request. "Alright." She said, realising her mistake, "Sorry Eliás."

She brought him a blood bag and an IV stand, placing the IV in the back of his hand and connecting him up to it. Eliás had never had any trouble sticking needles in anybody else, but he still hated them himself. The blood trickling into his bloodstream wasn't doing so fast enough. He wanted more.

"Veronika, could I have a bag to drink?"

"How much d'ya want?" she asked.

"I'm weak and I'm just really really thirsty."

"Do you want a human donor?"

"Dear God no!" he said, the his temper running so high it felt like he had a fever. Eliás realised then what exactly he sounded like and forced himself to calm down, "I'm sorry Veronika, I don't know what's got into me, I shouldn't have been so rude to you."

"Eliás Svboda, you and your pathetic temper wouldn't have the damned'est effect on me if you _were_ half the fiery dragon you think you are." She said, chuckling honestly, "Now, Anděl's been sitting outside for the past twenty minutes, asking to see you when you're awake. Shall I send him in?"

Eliás blinked. What did Anděl want? He sighed and nodded. "Send him in."

Veronika nodded and got up, and a few seconds later, the Prague Swordmaster came walking down the ward, still dressed in his pristine white fencing uniform from his classes.

"I've always wondered how you never get anything on that thing." Said Eliás, jerking his head towards Anděl's uniform.

"There's a knack to it." he said as he sat down next to Eliás' bed, bottle of wine in hand. He took a glance out of the window as he crossed his one leg over the other. "Bit turbulent out there isn't it?"

Eliás' eyes lit up. "Is that for me?"

Anděl looked at him. "No, this is for me." He said in a very innocent voice, before grinning, "Of course it's for you you twat."

"Can we break it open now?"

Anděl took a look at the IV stand and raised one of his blonde eyebrows. "Looks like you've started pre-lash already my friend."

"I know." Said Eliás, taking the bottle from Anděl and unscrewing the cap, "I'm just really thirsty this morning."

Screw glasses, Eliás thought. Tossing the cap clear, he lifted the bottle neck to his lips and proceeded to down the sweet wine as fast as his oesophagus would let him. After having drunk about half of the bottle, he needed air and so lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth, only to find Anděl staring open-mouthed at him.

"How dehydrated were you?" he asked, his voice completely astounded.

Even though Eliás really wanted to down the rest of the bottle, he decided it might be politer to speak to Anděl first, and so reluctantly put the bottle down on the side table.

"It's not enough." He groaned as he nursed his head, "I'm still thirsty."

"Well..." said Anděl, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees, his fingers interlocked, "That's what I came here to talk to you about." He said with a more sombre tone, "How are you?"

Eliás groaned again. "I've been better." He said, "I've definitely had a healthier conscience." He paused as his voice went quiet, "I never meant to kill him."

"It was self defence."

"I was just trying to knock him out, but instead I killed him, I didn't have to kill him, sure he'd have stabbed me a few times and run off but I'd have survived!" He said, "I'm such an idiot I really don't know what came over me..."

"That all depends on where he stabbed you." Said Anděl wisely, "Eliás, these things happen."

"No Anděl they don't!" Eliás snapped, "Never, not in my one hundred and twenty six years, have I ever lost control of my power like that!" he said, looking away, "It does frighten me."

"I've been thinking." Said Anděl, lowering his voice, "Having heard the entire story, and, I think, I do know."

"Pff. Please enlighten me."

"That German woman..." he began, and immediately Eliás' entire body went tense, "That you loved..."

Still loved, actually. "Yes?"

"When you were in San Clemente..." he said, "Did you imprint with her?"

Eliás froze again, taken aback by the casual question. "No." He said, "I don't think so. Why?"

"When you share a Binding Imprint with someone, you can tap into their affinity, as can they into yours." He said.

"I know that."

"Her affinity is for horses isn't it?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Accumulation." He said, "Summation. If you were channelling her affinity, that would give you an automatic link to Friedrich, whose affinity is also for horses. You would have been feeling your own anger, plus Friedrich's, as well as an automatic and powerful revulsion to the ill-treatment of the horses."

For the first time in a long time, Eliás was completely speechless. He couldn't have imprinted with Lenobia, this was the first time he had ever 'channelled' anything, and San Clemente was five years ago now, it was too long. You can't be imprinted with someone for five years and not know about it, it was impossible. Anděl had a good point, but what if it was just the stress of Eliás job getting to him? What if it was as simple as that? It could well be.

"And, it could just have been the stress of the job getting to me." He replied, "It's an extremely complicated theory for a very simple thing."

"Well I thought so too, until you mentioned how thirsty you were." Said Anděl, "This is the first time you've been physically injured since San Clemente. You've lived off the blood in our wine since then and it's tided you by, but now you're needing to heal, your body's telling you you need more."

Eliás' face fell. "Are you telling me that she could be electrically shocking everything she touches? Can she channel mine too?"

It was an extremely good point. Eliás had only just discovered this now, she would probably wake up one day and bring an entire building down. And there was another extremely good point. As Eliás well knew, the ability to tap into each other's affinities could only occur two vampyres that shared a Binding Imprint. It was the most powerful imprint known to man, it was what defined soulmates, it was no ordinary imprint. It was so powerful that eventually, the couple bound by it could only survive off each other's blood, other blood lost all its nutritional value, lost its taste, even began to taste foul to them. And yet if that was the case, how could he have had no idea, how could he even have survived this long without her. Anděl seemed to be reading his mind like an open book. And why was it Anděl here, explaining this to him? Because Anděl had been there, because Anděl and shared that unbreakable bond with Lýdie, because Anděl knew. That's why it was Anděl sitting here right now, instead of Věra or any of the others.

"Maybe." He said, "But, I do know from experience, that channelling spontaneously is a rare occurrence, normally, in order to do it, you need to consciously practice it."

"Thank Nyx."

"But what confuses me is how you could have gone for so long without seeing her." He said, "You know why. By all laws of nature you should be dead right now."

"Nyx clearly isn't done with me yet."

"Let's just hope not." He said.

"You need to contact her."

Eliás froze again. "What?"

"I'm serious." Said Anděl, "I don't know how the Hell that _both _of you have managed to remain completely pig-ignorant of this for five years, she must be as stubborn as you are." Eliás nodded, "But surely if you think there's any kind of imprint there at all, you need to talk to her about it. If she gets hurt Eliás, she'll be weak and thirsty for days like you are now, and Nyx forbid, if anything near-fatal happens to her your blood will be the only thing that can save her."

Eliás looked uncomfortable. "I don't think so."

"Look, it's not like you're calling her to tell her you've got an STD." Said Anděl informatively, causing Eliás' eyes to widen slightly.

"You can't be right Anděl." He said, "I know what it looks like, I do, but you can't share a Binding Imprint with someone for five years and not know about it. You know that."

Anděl pulled a face in unwilling agreement. "I hope I'm wrong and you're right Eliás."

"Me too." There was a pause. "How's Friedrich?" Eliás asked gingerly. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Anděl sighed. "Still not responsive." He said. Eliás' heart sank, "The doctors have said, that for a full recovery to be on the cards, they really do need to see some movement from him within the next twenty-four hours."

The weather outside was getting steadily worse, asides from the wind whistling through all the nooks and crannies of the castle, thunder was beginning to rumble in the distance. Eliás sat there, unable to reply, and he felt the warm wet trickle of a tear run down his cheek. "I hate myself." He said, screwing his eyes shut and driving out more tears as lightning flashed outside, causing a blue-white light to temporarily illuminate the ward, "I should never have let that _idiot _anywhere near you all! This is all my fault."

Another silence ensued, neither vampyre could say anything. Eliás wiped his eyes with the back of his arm. "Anděl..." he said, "Do you remember my first day at the House of Night?"

Anděl, not so far from tears himself, thought for a moment. This was odd, Eliás had only ever seen Anděl close to tears when Adéla died. He wasn't the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve at all, the man was and always had been a stereotypical ice-prince. Even though Lýdie's gentle and loving nature had melted him a little, without her presence he could very quickly revert. A small smile played on his lips. "Yeah..." he said after a while, "You kept dropping the foil..."

Eliás laughed. "I couldn't find a classroom. It was just after mid-evening break and I had no idea where I was supposed to be, and I didn't know a soul to ask. Friedrich, I don't know what he was doing inside or why he just happened to be where I was, but he saw me, and he knew I was lost. I remember him grinning and me and saying: 'My boy, at least we'll know not to make you a tracker'. He took me to where I was supposed to be, he chatted to me on the way, I didn't know any vamps back them, but every since that day, even now, I've never met a nicer vampyre."

Anděl also gave a small laugh. "Don't tempt fate by honouring his memory." He said, "He's not dead yet."

"Let's hope so." He said, before satisfying the itch to pick up the bottle of wine again, and chugging the rest of it back.

Anděl watched him with a face of slight disbelief. "D'you want another one of those?"

Eliás lowered the now empty bottle and wiped his mouth. "Yes please."

* * *

Later on, Eliás decided that maybe it would be a good idea to call Anastasia. At the very least to tell her that they would be sending Dallas back in a box. It definitely wasn't a phone-call that he wanted to make, but he was going to have to face up to this sooner or later, it might as well be to the person who needed to know. Shit she'd have to inform his family... Eliás' stomach turned violently.

Checking that he had enough credit to make the call, he scrolled through his contacts until he found her mobile number, inwardly cringed, and finally pressed the green 'call' button. Eliás timed the call carefully, so that, in Tulsa's time zone, it was the middle of the day. Everyone would be asleep and theoretically, being on a hospital ward and all, he could make the call fairly private. Anastasia seldom answered her office phone on account of seldom being in her office.

The phone rang for ages, and Eliás felt even guiltier at waking her up. Eventually, he heard the phone being picked up.

_"Eliás Svboda what in Nyx's name are you doing calling me at half past three in the afternoon?"_

Clearly she had caller ID. "I'm really sorry Anastasia I really needed to speak to you and just haven't had a spare moment lately."

She sighed wearily. _"What's the problem?"_

"It's about Dallas."

_"Then it can wait."_

"I'm afraid it can't."

She was silent for a moment. _"Oh Christ what has he done?"_

"Well could you zap yourself in? I need to talk to you about this in person."

Another sigh. _"Fine."_

Anastasia appeared in a whisp of mist, dressed in a dark blue silk nightdress and a similarly blue fluffy dressing gown and slippers. Her hair was tangled and she wasn't wearing any make-up. Anastasia normally wore heels, even in the daytime, and seeing her now without them Eliás realised how tiny she actually was.

"I don't have a very good feeling about this." She said, before suddenly looking at Eliás in bed and then to her surroundings, "And why are you in hospital?"

He sighed, hanging up and putting his phone back on the bedside table. "Dallas knifed me."

Anastasia's big bright blue eyes went wide like saucers, before narrowing in a very disappointed, but not surprised look. "Oh Jesus..." she said, sitting down in the chair next to him, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He said, clutching his forehead, "But Dallas isn't."

"You shocked him?"

There was a pause. "I killed him." Eliás said.

This time, Anastasia's eyes didn't go ridiculously wide; in fact her eye contact didn't even waver. She looked at him as if she was solving a particularly difficult maths problem or a diabolical Sudoku. Again, he could see, even feel in his intuition that she was disappointed and saddened but not surprised. "What happened?" she said quietly.

He exhaled. "Friedrich caught him shocking some of the horses for entertainment. He was furious, quite violent for Friedrich actually, he threw him against a tree, saw Dallas off with the intention of coming to find me after he'd finished riding for the morning. I don't know what Dallas was thinking but, in revenge, I think, he shocked Friedrich while he was riding, killed the horse outright and very nearly killed Friedrich. Who is still in the isolation ward and unresponsive, by the way." He hated to look at the expression on her face as he spoke, knowing that it would make telling it professionally all the more difficult, "No one saw him do it but the vet did a post mortem on the horse and said it died from electric shock, I went to see Dallas, his own loud mind told me the rest. I found him in his room, one of our pre-nineteenth century guest rooms, fag in hand. He wasn't sorry... It almost made me wish I couldn't get inside people's heads when I have to deal with people like him – he wasn't just, ignorant of the suffering he'd caused, he enjoyed it, he enjoyed the control over other people's fates. Anyway I confronted him about it. He didn't see what the fuss was about. He tried to leave and I wouldn't let him, he took a strike at me and I just floored him." Eliás had long since broken eye-contact with Anastasia and was now nursing his forehead, his eyes shut as the images flashed before his eyes in real time. "He then pulled out a kitchen steak knife that he'd hidden under his bed and waved it at me, shouting, we grappled with it, he was stronger than I was and he managed to stab me." He said, pointing at his dressed wound with his left hand, "He raised it to stab me again and I just didn't think..."

"You shocked him."

"I _never_ meant to kill him." Said Eliás, still burying his face in his hands, "I just meant to knock him out but I was so angry it was like I couldn't mediate what I was doing! I feel so ashamed... I didn't have to kill him, if he'd stabbed me again and run off I'd have survived!" he sighed, "I can't, dissipate this anger, I couldn't get rid of it when I confronted him and now it's still inside me and I can't let it out."

"I know what you're thinking..." she said, her blue eyes reading his grey ones like an open book, "Anděl spoke to you..."

"Oh feel free to nose." He said sarcastically, and she withdrew her curiosity.

"Sorry." She said, "I know you didn't mean to do it."

"That's not good enough though." He said, "My calling in life, was never teaching, never school admin logistics, it was always to help people through science. I hate killing. When I'm forced to do it, it feels like a bit of my pride dies. And when I'm not forced to do it, it makes me feel physically ill."

"Eliás, it was an accident." She said reassuringly, "If he'd have killed you, if he'd have stabbed you, cut a few essential arteries and you'd bled to death, what good would that have been? If you can help people Eliás, if you can do good, you need to stay alive to continue it."

"I'm sorry I brought all this trouble on you." He said, "You'll have to tell his family and everything..."

She remained solemn. "His family were never told that he survived the rejection of the Change as a kid." She said, "We told him to, it was their right to know after all, after he'd become a red vamp, but he didn't want to."

"Maybe he thought they wouldn't want him."

"Maybe.

Eliás sighed and swallowed the lump in his throat, and realised that once again, his mouth was dry. Jesus not again. "Anastasia, you couldn't pass me a few blood bags could you?"

"Sure." She said, "Uh, where from?"

"Store-room's just over there." He said, pointing towards a door not far from the nurses' station. She got up and went in, pinging the old light on as she went. "Is there any left out to warm?"

"Doesn't look like it." she called back, "Just fridged."

"That'll do." He said grumpily.

You know..." she said, bringing back five or so bags of blood, "There's something else I need to tell you." She passed him the bags and sat back down again while he tore the bags open one by one, "We didn't tell you this before, we didn't want him to find out, by accident..." she said, pointing to her head, "You know what I mean."

He gulped down the first bag and started on the next. "What?"

"He was going back to prison anyway." She said, earning a surprised look from Eliás, "They found a journal in his jail cell, after he'd left to come to you, he'd hidden it in a mattress or something, and forgotten to take it when he left. Stupid of him really. Turned out it was, I would say, a little obsessed with Stevie-Rae. In it he went on and on about how he was going to find her and get her back for testifying against him before, when she'd told the courts she wanted a restraining order to keep him away after he got out."

"What?"

"That alone is evidence enough to send him down."

"Christ."

"He had a bit of an inferiority complex, it turns out."

"Nyx must have gifted him for a reason." Said Eliás, "She doesn't entrust us with these affinities for nothing." Especially not magical affinities to men, he thought.

Anastasia looked sad for a moment. "Nyx believed in Neferet too."

"Yes." He said quietly, "I hope She believes in Friedrich."

"I think She does."

Anastasia looked over her shoulder and Eliás leant forward to see Silvija, Friedrich's Head Girl, standing a few feet away, still dressed in her riding clothes, her tied-back dark hair a little dishevelled from working outside. Eliás remembered that she had been a pupil here but Changed a few years ago, but now she still worked for Friedrich, helping him run the show at the Riding School. She had always been a very confident girl, not shy in the least, and very practical. She'd taken over Friedrich's jobs, and to them like a fish to water. Nothing was allowed to slip, not even when the worst had come to the worst like it had. Her face was weary, as was everyone else's, but her workload had effectively doubled, and still she soldiered on like a Trojan. He supposed horses didn't stop being horses, even when she was supposed to be sleeping.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Oh it's okay, I'm Anastasia, High Priestess of the Tulsa House." Said Anastasia, extending her hand for Silvija to shake.

"It's an honour ma'am." She said, shaking Anastasia's wrist.

"What can I do for you Silvija?" said Eliás.

She took a few steps closer, her boots clicking on the hard floor. "I came to see if Friedrich's come to yet, is he on the ward?" she asked, looking around for him.

"He's in the isolation ward, and I'm afraid there's been no change."

She looked saddened. "And I had some good news for him."

"What's the news?"

"One of our broodmares we imported from Germany a month ago has just foaled. Beautiful little thing, he'll be pleased with it."

Eliás and Anastasia both looked equally confused. "Oh?"

Silvija smiled knowingly, her eyes bright like stars. "It's a liver-chestnut colt."


	29. Kiss From A Rose

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Heya! Well, this is actually the penultimate chapter, again I originally wrote two chapters as one but it got long and I wanted to finish on 30 chapters, not 29. So here you go: **

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_There is so much a man can tell you,  
So much he can say.  
You remain,  
My power, my pleasure, my pain, baby...  
To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny.  
Won't you tell me is that healthy, baby?  
But did you know,  
That when it snows,  
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen.  
Baby,  
I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray.  
Ooh, the more I get of you  
The stranger it feels, yeah  
Now that your rose is in bloom,  
A light hits the gloom on the gray._

"_Kiss From A Rose", by Seal_

_

* * *

_

Snow.

It was that time of year again.

Comical really, how quickly it went. And yet this time of year had been and gone ten times since the event they were commemorating. Ten times. And yet here he was, little the worse for wear, ten years older, ten years wiser. Pff, supposedly. He wished. Coming to Tulsa really shouldn't have been that big of a deal. Of course if anyone was going to make a mountain out of a molehill... But for him, it meant seeing her. And even after ten years, he wasn't sure if that was something that his extra ten years had equipped him to deal with.

Eliás Svboda had never been to Tulsa. Never even to America. He had flung his head back and laughed heartily when the security guard at customs asked him what part of Britain he came from, and then the expression on his face when he produced a Czech passport. Climbing out of the car, he wrapped his long black coat around him. The snow was almost as bad here as it was in Prague.

He smiled as he saw Anastasia Lankford standing outside the doors, waiting for him, not looking in the least bit cold as she stood in just an evening gown in the winter blizzard. "It's so good to see you again." He said, shaking her wrist.

"And you." She said, "Come on in, everyone else is already here."

"Am I late?"

"Of course not! I trust it was a good flight?"

"Very good."

"Now brace yourself, you may just be swept off your feet." She said, as she opened the doors. And sure enough, she was right. Hugs and greeting ensued, so much so, that by the end of it, Eliás thought his hand might fall off for all the shaking. Finally, he saw Dragon Lankford, and greeted him.

"It's been too long." He said.

Eliás' gaze was immediately diverted by the presence of a little girl, around ten years old, with the crescent moon Mark at Dragon's side. "Is this...?"

He met Dragon eye to eye. The little girl was, unmistakably, his daughter, the resemblance was striking. In herself the little girl was a miracle, vampyres were well and truly sterile. Eliás had, like all the others, heard Nyx's words back then, and he had also heard the rumours, that the girl was Neferet reborn, however he had never actually asked either Dragon or Anastasia about it, and it was probably best that he didn't. Dragon nodded, confirming Eliás' suspicions, before his face returned to that of a proud father. "This is my daughter Evie."

"Merry meet." He said, holding out his weary hand for the girl to shake. He remembered Dragon from that time in San Clemente, so broken that he could barely cling onto life, and now, as he held his arm around Evie's shoulder, he looked as if all the love and pride was about to explode from inside him.

Eliás and Dragon continued to chat, their voices lost into the jumble of sounds that was the party. Neither of them heard the doors open again. Everyone became louder, and seemed to flock towards the door. Anyone would have thought Nyx had just walked into the room.

Using the advantage of his height, Eliás peered over the heads of the other people standing in the way. It wasn't Nyx, but in honesty Eliás truly believed that if it had been, he would feel inwardly less shrunken than he did at that moment. It was Lenobia.

Eliás stared. Dressed in a black dress to mid-thigh and, as always, in knee-high boots, although these had heels as opposed to zips up the sides. It was the first time anyone except occasionally the other staff members had seen her not in britches and Königs. She had no make-up on – she didn't need it, nor has she had time to put any on, and her hair was loose down her back.

Now Lenobia was not the sort of person you can walk up to and hug. She seemed to be making an exception for now, that was how moving this whole thing was. Eliás held his composure. He owed her his life. He had never forgotten that wounded rogue soldier that was brought into his Infirmary all those years ago, never forgotten the sheer determination and strength of character as she tried to walk, never forgotten how she felt in his arms, even if she had. He had never forgotten the pleasure that had spread through him like wildfire when he drank her blood, how he had had to stop, otherwise he may very well have jumped on her. How she had laughed when he spilled hot coffee all over her, how he very nearly kissed her, and then spent the rest of his life repressing the fact that he had always regretted not doing so. He wasn't sure why he kept wanting to sneak glances at her when she wasn't looking. She was beautiful, yes, but so was every other female vamp in the world, he never had trouble controlling himself, even his own thoughts could be purely platonic if he wanted them to be, it was like setting himself to automatic pilot, but now his heart was thudding and he couldn't breathe. He still loved her. He loved her so much that he couldn't think of anything else. Why was she so different? His mind flashed back once more to the beautiful vampyre in a Nazi army uniform, lying on that hospital bed, barely alive. There was so much blood that it was dripping to the floor at the side of the bed. Thirty bullets. Shot thirty times where it mattered most. She had never been expected to survive, let alone walk, or even ride. At the time, he had wondered what her story was. A female, in the army, even a vampyre, was unheard of. Human women weren't allowed full stop. Why was she in the army? And how had an army vamp ended up teaching at a House of Night? All things he thought he knew, but did he really? His breath caught in his throat as she came nearer – why wouldn't this pain when he saw her go away? Could he even do it again, could he force himself, and push her away? He swallowed the lump in his throat - this was going to hurt. Would she affect him like this for the rest of his life?

When she came to him, she gave his wrist a firm shake, probably rendering it useless for the rest of the evening. He froze under her grip, her touch sent not just shivers but shocks up his spine. "Good to see you."

He looked to her feet for a moment. "No Königs?"

Lenobia sighed. Christ he was a powerful vampyre, she could feel it in her blood. His presence sent a spark down her spine. She wondered if he had any idea how hard it was for her to look at him and keep a sense of decorum about her. "No Königs."

The rest of the party went by in a whir. Everyone talking, laughing, drinking, all be it to no effect. After a few hours, Dragon Lankford noticed Evie sitting by the window, where a few minutes before she had been watching the falling snowflakes outside enchantedly. Her head was resting against the window pane, her eyes peacefully closed. Dragon whispered into Anastasia's ear, to which she gave a nod. Dragon went and knelt by Evie's side.

"Evie?" he asked, rubbing her arm gently, "Are you awake?"

She stirred momentarily, before yawning. "I'm sleepy..."

"Okay." He said, gathering her into his arms, "Time for bed, I think."

"That reminds me..." said Lenobia, glancing down at her watch, "I'll be right back." She excused herself and left, her blonde hair licking the door as she went.

She sighed to herself and watched her breath condense in front of her as she marched out of the back door of the staff room and down the path to the stables. She needed a break from him. She had spent only ten minutes talking to him and already she felt she needed to run just so her brain could catch up on processing all that he had said or done, since it refused to work in his actual presence. Why did Eliás Svboda's presence haunt her like a ghost? She unlocked the door to her office and went inside, kicking off her heeled boots and replacing them with green wellies. She pulled on a heavy coat and gloves, and opened the cupboard, pulling out an Animalintex poultice and a vetwrap bandage. Running the tap at the sink until it was hot, she filled a little tub with water and put the poultice in it. If anything could make her think straight, it was her horses. Stepping out into the snow again, she stopped dead.

"Sorry." He said, "Just wanted some peace and quiet for a few minutes."

It was Eliás. His reddish-brown hair like the only splodge of colour in the white night. As always, he was perfectly presented. He was so handsome, so perfect in every single way. One look at him and you could tell his IQ was off the charts. You could almost see the neurones in his brain flashing as he came to a conclusion at three times the speed of the next best person. Why did he make her heart pound every time he looked at her? Lenobia didn't blush. It wasn't something she wasted her time doing and even if she could, the cold had frozen her cheeks almost solid. She felt a butterfly in her stomach. Not butterflies plural, butterfly singular. A tiny, shrinking feeling, the kind she felt before riding in an important competition. She wasn't a nervous person, but she still felt that butterfly. It had always been a good thing, Lenobia had always taught her older students that if you're not a little bit nervous it means you don't care, you don't appreciate what could go wrong, no matter how accomplished a rider you are, a bird in a hedge, a spectator rattling a crisp-packet, a shadow, and your marks could plummet, your penalties soar sky-high. It meant you didn't feel the passion of the sport. She wasn't about to go in front of an international dressage judge, or tackle a four star cross-country course, but it felt like that. The similarities between them were so uncanny, she knew he had the potential to be a very good friend. The other potential, she had pushed to the back of her mind. Not everything revolved solely around romantic relationships. As soon as the possibility entered her mind, she dismissed it. They both had responsibilities which tied them down, on different continents with the Atlantic Ocean in between, no less. Feeling such a connection with someone that she was actually considering this possibility at all was such a rare occurrence that it bothered her. She had played with fire with this man before, and got burned. Those burns still stang and red sores on her skin still made her eyes water. The strange curiosity that wondered, what it was like to touch him, to kiss him, even make love to him, was likewise banished. She had already had to get over losing him once, and fought for that piece of herself, and if she told herself to truth, she would have been quite happy if he hadn't turned up tonight. Happier, even, it would mean she wouldn't have to look at him and remember him.

"So you followed me?"

He shrugged, he had to, he just had to see her, watch her. "Yes."

"Alright, well I just came out to change a poultice." She said, walking into the second block of stables, "All this snow means we can't turn them out, and some of them are going a bit loopy kept in." She stopped at a stable, picked up the headcollar and leadrope and undid the bolts on the door. "This one managed to stand on his own feet." She said, pointing to the stable bandages on its front legs. Tying the horse to the string on the tie-ring, she removed the right bandage, revealing beneath a vetwrap bandage, which she peeled off, and revealed a small cut. Not deep, but oozing pus. "It got a bit infected. The poultice draws out all the muck."

As she changed the poultice, he let the horse lick the palm of his glove. "I've missed you."

She looked up. "You have?"

_More than anything, _he thought. "You're still the same person I met in San Clemente. You're the same person I saw in 1945. You haven't changed."

"You think so?" she said, getting up and untying the horse, "I don't know." She paused for a moment, "Eliás, when you were Marked, did you think that you had been saved?"

"Maybe." He said, "Maybe not. Why?"

"I hear stories of people like Zoey Redbird and Damien Maslin who agree that Nyx did save them from their human lives." She said, leaning against the stable door next to him, "I would love to be able to say that that was the case with me."

"You weren't?"

She shook her head. "At the time I rather felt my life had been destroyed. I wanted to ride for Germany, etc... All that went out the window. I went into the army, well, it meant I could stay closer to my father for one, we were pretty close. And, I think the other reason I did it, was because I wanted respect for what I was. From the best themselves. When you go into that atmosphere, suddenly it becomes a ladder for status. I injured several other men because they thought I was a joke, or a toy, or both. I used to have to listen to them at night after lights out talking about their sexual conquests. Boys will be boys, but there are some limits to common decency." She bit her lip, "Don't get me wrong. I got a lot out of being in the army, if I were to leave Tulsa now I'd think about going back. But, for that reason, I swore I'd never be like the wives or mistresses of those men. I wasn't going to be a tool for someone else's pleasure. The respect disintegrates. Being a vampyre has never been a plus as far as any of that is concerned."

"You hid in the world you wanted to be a part of." She was silent. "I know." He said, "I did too."

"You did?"

He nodded. "I wanted respect, for what I was. I didn't want it for my affinity, I wanted it for my mind. Which was, a long time ago, the only part of me I considered to have any worth. So when I Changed, I went to study Physics, and then Chemistry. I was hopeless at Drama, the Arts, I wanted to be a scientist. I didn't want to be someone's warrior. Not that I dislike the cause, but I wanted something more, I didn't want to stop there. I didn't integrate into the vampyre world, I went back to the human one like you. How I got where I am now is anyone's guess."

"And when you become set in your ways, that's it."

He smiled. "You're very inspirational, you know that?"

She smiled back. "So are you."

"Truth be told..." he said, "Back then, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime, but I thought you might break my nose..."

She chuckled. "Depends if you were intending on spilling it on me again."

"Say I was." He said, "What would you say?"

She nodded comically. "I would break your nose." She laughed again, "But, I've often wondered what would have happened if you had."

"Spilled coffee on you?" she chuckled as he gave a small smirk. "Well..." he said, turning to face her. He had waited so, so long to kiss her again, wanted it desperately for too long. He had restrained it and forced himself to forget about it for sixty-five years, and for the past ten it had become undeniable. Their lips met with heat and passion and longing. It felt like she had already died and gone to heaven, she could just melt in his arms. Kissing him felt so good, never had she waited so long for a kiss or a touch, and all those years of passion and desire all gushing out. She briefly wondered if there was anything this man couldn't do. She could feel his power buzzing beneath his skin, the immense strength was more than just bodily exciting her. Why hadn't they done this all those years ago? Eliás had been wrong. He hadn't forgotten what it felt like to kiss her. He hadn't grown numb to it, the excitement, the cardiac arrest and even the arousal he had felt sixty-five years ago hadn't dimmed. Oh God why not? All he could hear racketing around and around in his head like an echo was _"I love you... I love you... I love you..." _Lenobia could feel sparks whenever he touched her, even through clothes and gloves. Their kiss kept getting deeper, fiercer, her arms wrapped themselves around him, one around his waist, the other over his back so she could hold his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to him. She felt completely swamped by his embrace. He was the first person, ever, to make her feel delicate, small, that he might actually protect her instead of her having to protect herself. His lips wandered to her neck, where he nipped her sharply and sucked on the blood that trickled over them. Thirst gripped at him fiercely as he drank – for the first time in many years, Eliás thirst was satisfied. It was a wonderful feeling, his entire body warmed and his muscles felt soft, any quarm that he might have had ebbed away into nothing. It made other blood taste like muck. What did that mean? Sighs and moans escaped from both of them freely. "Nmmm... Not out here..." she breathed, continuing in between to kiss him as hard as she could, "It's too cold..."

Ah, earlier she had been serious about the sparks, and her conviction was reassured when the sparks became an actual shock.

They broke apart, both breathless, but didn't let go of one another.

"Sorry..." he said, forcing his affinity back, "Sorry..."

"Is that going to be a problem?"

"I hope not..."

Lenobia heard a stamping in the otherwise quiet stable block. "Well, not as much of a problem as that."

It was Persephone. Kicking at her stable door, she was doing the phlegm-imposture stance, where the horse pokes its nose in the air and turns its top lip up.

Eliás tilted his head to the side. "Is that horse vetting me for suitability?"

...

"Yep."

...


	30. Starry Eyed

_**The Lightning Vampyre**_

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**Me: Hi guys! Again, after ten months (yes it's taken me nearly a year to write this story) this one's finally coming to an end. It's odd really, whenever I read the HoN books now I always expect Eliás to be in the story somewhere and then I get a little bit disappointed when he's not there haha. It's also a bit weird to think I won't write about him again, he's defo the coolest character I've ever created. **

**Anyway, enjoy this last chapter guys. Thank you to my lovely reviewers who've made this all worthwhile. I really enjoyed writing it! **

**Don't forget to check out my other HoN fic, "Scarborough Fair"! **

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_You tread water_  
_Fighting for the air in your lungs_  
_Move, move closer_  
_Maybe you can right all your wrongs._

_Wipe the mud spray from the face_  
_Stop the engine_  
_Stop pretending_  
_Wipe the mud spray from your face_  
_Stop the engine_  
_Yeah, stop pretending that you're still breathing_

_It's a shame you don't know_  
_What you're running from_  
_Would your bones have to break_  
_And your lights turn off_  
_Would it take the end of time_  
_To hear your heart's false start?_

_You know this is your biggest mistake_  
_What a waste, what a waste, what a waste_  
_And of all the things you never explained_  
_Well, you know this is your biggest mistake._

_"Your Biggest Mistake", by Ellie Goulding_

_

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_

Eliás squinted back at the horse. "It's mocking me."

"It is."

...

"Does it approve?"

"No." She said, holding back more laughs, "She knows it's hopeless." Lenobia's laughing fades into the frozen air, and she held onto him tighter, leaning her head beneath his chin, "We live on opposite sides of the world, Eliás." She said, "If it ever came to that, both of us have to stay where we are. You can't leave Prague and I can't leave Tulsa. And even if I could I can't speak Czech."

"Dragon and Anastasia couldn't even understand each other at first."

"They didn't have to shout it over the Atlantic Ocean." She said, making him snort, "How long are you here for?"

He sounded sad. "Three days."

"Three days..." she trailed away into nothing. "Stay with me."

"Couldn't keep me away." He said pertly, "No matter what else I am, I'm still male." He held her tightly for a moment, "I might even be straight."

She burst out laughing. "We shall see. Life is what you make it."

"And love?" he asked with a grin on his face, "Is love what you make it?"

"Love, High Priest, is definitely what you make it."

Eliás let his hand rub gently up and down her back in smooth, rhythmic patterns. "I love you." He said quietly. Lenobia could feel him shudder, just slightly, as he said it, and raised her head slightly so she could see his face. "I've loved you for so long I've forgotten what life was like before you came into mine." He breathed, "I thought I could get over it but I just... can't. All I can think about, is how badly I want to grow old with you, which is stupid, because you barely know me, and..."

She silenced him by standing on her toes and kissing him gently. "Eliás..." she whispered, leaning her head just beneath his chin, "I think I love you too... Nyx help me... I'm sorry I was so cold, I was trying to spare myself the pain of losing you..."

Eliás leant forward and kissed her, pulling her small body close to his as he could, his arms were clamped around her and pressing her to him firmly. There was no waver in that strength, it was constant and it sent shivers up her spine. Lenobia felt like a little girl, giddily happy, he was so perfect, even his imperfections made him perfect. She didn't think she could ever see another living being like she saw him. She didn't know him well, not half so well as he knew her, but there was something about him that was familiar in every single way, there were pieces of him that already had a place in her heart, before she even knew they existed. She wondered if that was what Dragon made Anastasia feel like, and began to forgive them for being glued to each other's sides all those years.

Lenobia had grown up fending for herself. She would protect herself, because no one else would, and even if they tried, often they were incompetent. Right here, his body heat keeping her warm, flushed with cold, lust and heavy breath, she was safe. He was protecting her. For once, she didn't have to worry about anything. It was like a little luxury she was basking in. For someone to feel that she was worth protecting, to truly_ want _to protect her like that gave her such a rush, such a feeling of immaturity. There is only one thing that a woman who 'wears the trousers' wants, and that is a man around whom she doesn't have to. Someone who will take charge and give her a day off, at the very least a night.

"Come on." She said, as they untwined themselves. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the stables exit.

His entire body stiffened. "Where are we going?"

"Catch me and find out!" she said, giving a little shrug with a raise of both brows, before taking off into the flurry of snow. Laughing and giving chase, he ran after her, his eyes catching sight of her as she waded through the snow and up the bank from the yard towards the campus. What had been a chase quickly became a snowball fight, with him lobbing great handfuls of the stuff at her in an attempt to slow her down. She fired back, screaming as one of his hit her squarely in the face. She flicked it out of her eyes quickly, and made a dart for another few strides up the bank, but was too slow as he caught her in his arms and hoisted her clean off the floor.

"So..." he said, returning to the cut on her neck he had made earlier, "Why are we running up the bank... instead of using the steps like normal people?"

She moaned as he sucked at the cut again, flicking his tongue over it, no doubt to infuse as much saliva as possible.

"Because..." she breathed craning her neck and reaching over to him, she eagerly nipped at the skin just below his ear, "We won't be seen going up this way." She drank. Oh Christ _nothing _tasted like that!

Squirming, she wriggled out of his grasp and pulled him towards the professor's quarters, because if they didn't get there soon, she swore to Nyx she would have him in the snow.

Finally her fingers clumsily pressed the door code into the pad and pressed down on the handle, pushing through and darting up the stairs. The place was desolate. Perfect! Her flat was on the second floor, right next to Dragon and Anastasia's. She briefly wondered how it was, that she knew Dragon and Anastasia were having sex every time they could spare two seconds, and yet she never heard so much as a bedspring. Hm... Probably Anastasia's affinity being put to good use. She had never envied anyone else's affinity, until now.

They fell through the door to her flat as if completely intoxicated. Pulling each others' coats off through heated kisses, Lenobia pulled him towards the bedroom and kicked off her wellies. She had waited so long for this, for him to allow the raw passion he held for her loose. He wasn't worried or trying to stop himself, and she wouldn't let him stop now if he wanted to. Turning around in his arms, she leant against him and pushed him down, so that she landed with her body over him and her legs curled up to the left of him. Hurriedly, they began pulling each other's clothes off, every touch amplified without the layers of fabric. In 45, had she ever looked at him in his smart spotless white doctor's tunic and wondered what was beneath it, she wondered? Pulling at the zip on her dress, he slipped it gently from her shoulders and ran his hands over her waist and hips, pushing it down. Kicking it away, she pulled the bedcovers over them as he rolled on top of her...

A thought struck Lenobia's mind, and suddenly all that lust was drained from her in one single second, the void filled by fear.

"Wait wait..."

Eliás stopped dead. Did she not want to? The sound of the lock on the door to her flat clicking when they came in had flicked a switch in their heads, their clothes were strewn all over the floor and they had fallen between the covers of her bed giggling like teenagers. Under here was amazingly warm, maybe it was just that they had been outside in subzero temperatures that made it seem that way, or maybe it was that at home in Prague they still relied on massive fireplaces and five duvets to keep the rooms warm. Either way, his cheeks were flushed with what they were doing and he was pretty sure that there was still snow melting in his hair. He could still taste her blood on his tongue, nudging him from the inside and flustering him.

He had always despised those couples that seemed to be physically stuck to each other at all times, and recognised the tiniest slither of hypocrisy when he realised that it was like an electrostatic attraction, magnetic, he couldn't keep his hands off her. There was a tight knot in the depths of his stomach... The hormones thickening in his blood telling him he needed her now, desperation coursing like they were the last two people in the world and had to create another population before sundown. He was pretty sure that if she drank from him at that moment she probably wouldn't taste the blood, just the testosterone. Finally, his brain seized control again.

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking most of his weight on his elbows so that she didn't suffocate.

Lenobia felt a little disgruntled. Not because they were there, had it been up to her she would have gladly carried on without a care in the world. She felt disgruntled because she was disgusted with herself. Disgusted that she had not had the courage to just carry on, that this bothered her as much as it did. Don't misunderstand, it wasn't the sex.

She nodded at him. "Yes, it's just..." she looked down at her stomach, which was still covered by a thin white shirt that she had put on beneath her dress as an extra layer that at that moment the majority of him was itching to get off. "I'm a little bit... patchy..."

"Patchy?"

A glint in her eyes showed a small amount of discomfort, while cowardice stabbed at her soul. "Well, I have some scar tissue that hasn't, quite, faded... Quite a lot, actually..."

He noticed the discomfort. He noticed everything. Went along with being a genius, she supposed. He was gorgeous and he was hers, his smouldering eyes, his smouldering everything in fact, made her knees so weak that she was particularly glad that she was lying down. It was so easy with him too. With no one else had she ever felt so at ease at this stage. She liked him. She really, really liked him. _Give it time_, she thought, _I could love you_.

Wordlessly, he kissed her on the mouth, his lips travelling from her mouth to her neck and down. She sighed into him. _God I might even love you now... _Love him already? Did she love him already? Lenobia was a complete sceptic as far as love was concerned, the things that happened in the movies, they didn't happen in real life, there wasn't the euphoria, the complete sense of losing oneself, relationships were hard work, but right now, she felt like one of those girls in the movies, like love was this wondrous thing that tied two people's souls together on a whole new level, that drew them together like magnets, that made your soul soar. Nothing else had ever felt like this, with him. He wriggled down so that his face was level with the hem of her shirt and placed a feather-light kiss over the first bullet scar through the soft fabric, the cotton cool to the touch to start with, but as he pressed down slightly he could feel her body heat through it. He felt her eyes watching him in something between wonder and confusion as he went from scar to scar over her stomach, breasts and shoulders, all through only a seventy-five year-old memory. He came back up to kiss her on the mouth again, but her lips moved just a millimetre from his.

Eliás had been trying to be realistic with himself. It was something that had not been easy over these past few years, with magic and ghosts flying around left right and centre, he wasn't sure he knew exactly was real anymore. So how on Earth was he supposed to judge what wasn't?

He had tried so hard to keep a level head. Some relationships didn't work out, some did. Theirs may, or may not, and that wasn't identifiable in the early stages. Although he was just beginning to believe that she might actually be perfect. It felt real, far too real. Right then, as they lay under the covers in each others' arms, he never expected that he would feel an emotional attachment like this. He was an academic, not a warrior, but for a long time now, ever since he had run into her on that Italian island, he had known he would protect her with his life. He was sure that they had imprinted now, even if it was a slow one. Her hair, despite having been washed, still smelled faintly of horse as it felt soft against his skin. Then Lenobia did something rather unexpected. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and drew him to her in a hug. He took a deep breath and took in all the scent of her that he could... His soulmate...

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you..." he breathed, "I'm not brave like you are Lenobia..." he said, "I wish I was."

She looked like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Eliás, you gave up your _life _to fight Kalona. You nearly _died_."

"But you saved me." He said, "But unlike you I didn't do it without fear. I feared pain, I feared for myself, I feared for everyone on the ground... " he let a silent sigh escape his lips. The weight of this was beginning to crush him too, "I feared for you."

Her heart melted. "Don't you think..." she said, "That I was afraid, when I saw them take aim at me, as I turned to run? I was afraid when I was admitted to Prague in 45, I was afraid before I went to San Clemente and I was afraid when I saw you fall."

"But despite the fear, there was only one thing I regretted, as I fell." He said.

"What was it?"

He took a breath, his voice desperately trying not to waver. "That I would not die yours."

She paused, unable to speak for a moment. "Sometimes..." she began, her eyes somehow lost, "I wish I had that, that sense, an inkling of what had happened... I mean I know that I don't remember anything but I didn't realise I missed so much. And it's still a complete blank. You know..." She turned marginally onto her side and placed her hand on his shoulder gently. "In the movies when these things happen and she has some little recollection, or it comes back to her in dreams, or something reminds her... I remember nothing. I really wish I did."

"It's not your fault."

"And I'm sorry if I punched you or kicked you in that time..."

He laughed. "You didn't." He put his hand lightly over her stomach, "Lenobia, your scars are beautiful to me because I know why you have them."

"Well..." she said, shifting her weight, but he could see in her face the glee that shone at his words, "Once there was someone who didn't find them _quite_ so enticing as you do."

"I hope you dumped him."

"Yep. Through a window."

He narrowed his eyes. "With you on the inside I presume." He said.

"Oh no, I mean I _threw_ him through the window." She said, nodding.

"That was nice of you."

"But you know how to sweet-talk a girl." She smiled.

"And you know how to throw a guy through a window, we're even." He said, "And I meant it." he did.

"Thank you." She said, stars sparkling in her eyes as her fingers trailed over his stomach, chest, up his neck and into his hair. His stomach sunk and that knot inside it began to tighten again. _"Oh God..." _he thought, how could such tiny touches affect him like this? He still couldn't quite believe that this was happening; he wanted her so much... He growled under his breath at the little shivers of pleasure they caused and slid his arms around her, her skin against his fingertips sending electric shocks right through him, a teasing reminder of his own medicine. His hands subconsciously ran over her curves and pushed her shirt up as he leant in to kiss her again, her arms wrapping around him and pulling him back over her again as she wriggled out of her shirt. Lust consumed them like fire, their hands barely able to tear themselves away from each other's bodies to remove their undergarments. Three days... It wasn't enough... If he had his way, they would be just here making love for all three of them, the nights as well.

"Hey Lenobia." He said somewhat breathlessly, drawing back and raising an eyebrow in that banterous way.

She smirked and semi-rolled her eyes, although she was using the break to catch her breath. "What?"

"I think..." he kissed her again, "I found my Y-chromosome."

She screwed her eyes shut before bursting out into laughter. "Yeah you'd better have!"

* * *

_Next thing we're touching_

_Next thing we're touching_

_Next thing we're touching_

_Next thing we're touching_

_Next thing we're touching_

_Next thing we're touching_

_Next thing we're touching_

_Next thing we're touching  
You look at me it's like you hit me with lightning_

_Oh, everybody's starry-eyed  
And everybody goes  
Oh, everybody's starry-eyed  
And my body goes_

_Oh_

"_Starry Eyed", by Ellie Goulding_


End file.
